It's Too Late...

Its been a while since I've pulled an all-nighter. But as I sit in bed and listen to the birds chirping outside my window, I'm reminded of many days of sitting up through the night. I've always been a night owl. I loved the idea of being able to stay up later as I grew up. In high school I would pour over books and study and when I was finished I either would read for hours into the night or I would stay up to watch The Tonight Show. My mom would come into my room and tell me to go to sleep, that it was too late for me to still be awake. 

It's too late...those words cause my stomach to drop. No matter how you look at that phrase it isn't exactly positive. I imagine sitting at a party having a wonderful time and someone sayin "Gosh, it's late...we need to get going." Fun times are over, the party breaks up, and people head for home." Another scenario is being too late to help someone. Like when I got the call that my grandfather was dying. I raced through the streets of Seattle on foot and on a bus, hoping and praying I would be able to give him one more hug. Or one more kiss. To hear his voice one more time. But I was too late. 

There are many things in life I have felt "too late" for. And when you stay up all night with a racing mind, the hopelessness of the phrase tends to creep in even deeper. There were many times in basketball games as a kid when my shot was too late. I didn't make it, or it was blocked, or I didn't beat the buzzer...too late. I thought I loved a boy in high school and when I finally got the nerve to ask him to a dance, he had asked another girl...too late. I made a decision to go to a party in college instead of staying home and studying for my chemistry mid-term. I tried hard to cram the next morning through foggy thinking, but it didn't help...too late. I was too late to get home to my grandfather. I was too late in noticing that my husband and my marriage were crumbling. I was too late to save him. Too late...

And then there's tonight. No sleep. Tears streaming down my face as I reflect on all of these too late moments. The enemy is present in my house tonight, or this morning now, pushing thoughts into my head to distract me and take my eyes off my Heavenly Father. He whispers "It's too late..." into my ear over and over and over. Wanting me to give up. Wanting me to give in. Thinking that it's too late to lose weight and get healthy. You're thirty-eight years old. You've been fat your whole life. You really think you can turn this around now? Pushing in the message that I have spent my whole life being too late. Figuring out things just one step behind everyone else. Feeling worthless and ashamed. So full of guilt and anxiety. Feeling life being sucked away a moment at a time until I don't think I can breathe and all I want to do is put my babies in the truck and drive away where no one will ever find us. 

Satan wants all those thoughts in our head. He wants us to feel worthless and ashamed and hopeless. He wants us to sit in the dark and watch shadows swirl and be afraid. He wants us to fall into that trap and start the downward spiral that leads to sin and self-hatred and turning away from God and death. 

And then, just when I don't think I can handle any more, light streaks in through my blinds in my bedroom. Daylight is here. The darkness and the night are driven out by the day and it's the start of a new day. Psalm 91 floods into my head and I am free at last to breathe and remember who it is I belong to. 

For with Him, it's never too late. Every moment is a new chance to believe and stand firm in His presence. It's not too late to love and care and forgive. It's not too late to turn your life around, no matter what your transgressions are. It's not too late to ask for help and spiritual healing from the soul wounds that threaten to bleed you dry. It's not too late to find rest in his loving arms. It's not too late to start living instead of merely existing. 

There will be many times in life where I will think "it's too late" and as someone who deals with anxiety and PTSD on an almost daily basis, it is super easy for me to get caught up in the "it's too late" mindset. So I pray. And I read my Bible. And I reach out to friends. And with all of those factors in play, I hope that I can always hang on until that first hint of daybreak. And bolstering myself up in the presence of God, reading His word, and remembering that I am the daughter of the King, I will know that it's never too late to be loved by my Heavenly Father. 

It's not too late! He loves us all so very much and He wants to have a relationship with each and every one of us. He wants to carry us through the darkness of night. He wants us to come to Him in our hour of need. He wants to fix things when it's just too late. 

It's never too late! Don't ever give up...and I won't either...