king-sized or twin?

kingsizeBedWe slept only 10 days in a king-sized bed with a soft pillow-top, but it caused problems. Back home in our smaller bed, I woke up every time one of us turned over. By the third awakening–sans blankets–I was irritated.

My husband’s a big bear of a guy and sleeps diagonally across the bed. I get a triangular space–which has always been sufficient for me and my three obligatory pillows. I had quickly gotten used to a space all my own.”Get over yourself; you love this guy,” I reminded myself, but  went back to sleep dissatisfied, with a frown on my face, and dreamt…

The bed is huge, and my husband and I climb in and out without noticing or paying attention to each other. The bed is so comfortable that we cocoon into its softness and drifted alone on clouds of down. Strangely, the bed morphed and grew, and so did the space between us. The huge hole separating us in the bed was soon mirrored by a distance in our relationship. As the space between us grew and grew, we interacted less and less. Soon I was really comfortable, but anxious, alone, and lonely.
 

I woke up still frowning and unhappy until I realized I was actually pressed up against my husband’s back. Smiling, I drifted back to sleep repeating the mantra: “It’s okay. He’s here. He’s close. We’re together.”

A few days later I’m still thinking about that night of rude awakenings and flip-flopping attitudes. It wasn’t the size of the bed or the softness of the mattress that mattered. My dream changed my perspective. This Goldilocks decided that this bed and this relationship “is just right.”

It’s not important if the bed is too small, or too soft, or too anything. What’s my attitude?

More Musings and Lessons Learned:

During those same 10 days, my quiet times with God had also been sporadic, with large king-sized spaces of time between them–full of activities, interests, goals, people. As regular interactions with God decreased,  our relationship developed a schism, and  my stress levels, fears, and frowns increased. I didn’t hear his voice, feel his presence, or move when his actions and words suggest I move–because I didn’t recognize or hear them. I was busy doing my own thing.

My God’s really big–the ultimate in king-sized, and still I could go through the day as if he wasn’t there.  I need to be open to His voice, His dreams, His leading all day, every day and night. And when I mess up and separate myself, I hope He turns over and pulls off all of the blankets–and turns my frown into a smile. He’s here. He’s close, He’s mine. We’re together.

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