It's the little things, really.

Last night I stayed up far too late making blackberry pies and laughing with friends on the kitchen floor. Worth every minute, but the lack of sleep certainly took its toll on my body and spirits as I walked into work this morning feeling less-than-effective and obviously drowsy.

Anne (of Green Gables, of course) always said that "Each new day is fresh with no mistakes in it". I thought about the red-headed orphan's words this morning as I struggled to emerge from my cocoon of a down comforter. Instead of swallowing her words of optimism, I just wanted to punch Anne Shirley in the face. And maybe Gilbert Blythe, too... just for kicks. It was nearly impossible to get to work--even with both front windows of my car rolled down and the "Rent" soundtrack blaring.

I was talking to the Lord out loud on the way to work, "Lord, help me to serve you today. Take my mind off of me and give me a heart to work hard and serve you today. And if you could really just shake me and wake me up, too...that would be wonderful. Be my caffeine, Jesus." There is something so special about talking to the Lord--laying our lives before Him at the beginning of each new day. Opening up the lines of conversation and breathing Him in as our first breath instead of waiting till we're out of breath.

I still felt a bit drowsy when I arrived at my desk. But as soon as I looked around the room, I knew I was not the only sleep-deprived soul in Suite 220. My boss, Sharon, had her lips glued to her coffee mug and I couldn't help but notice Kathlee's rapid eye-twitching. Everyone was dead silent. This is what happens in the office when no one has slept. Finally I said it. "I'm kinda tired, today". Talk about an invitation to spill all. First, Sharon told her story. She had only slept two hours, because she was babysitting her four-year-old grandson who had to finally be locked in his bedroom because he was continually bopping her on the head with a spoon while she was sleeping. Then Kathlee told the end-all tale. She had spoken to a social worker, Teresa, who had been up all night because her golden retriever gave birth to thirteen puppies last week and the puppies were suffering from "gastric distress" until the sun rose this morning. All thirteen of them. Things could always be worse...

So, I sighed deeply after a good laugh, counting my blessings and thanking Jesus that I didn't have spoon dent marks on my head or a slew of gaseous golden retrievers to take care of. All I have for proof of my long night are two delicious home-made blackberry pies waiting for me on the counter when I get home this afternoon.

I'm so thankful for my job. Even in the midst of work that can be emotionally draining, God always seems to give me a little something to laugh about...