Why do I stay up so late? I hate it! Its almost as if I'm waiting for something to happen or I'm waiting for some sort of inspiration. But the hard part is that the longer I stay up the further inspiration feels as I glide further and further away from the island of clear thought process upon my little raft of sleep deprivation.
I remember how in college it was the thing to skip curfew (I went to a very conservative Bible college) by going to the nearby Waffle House. The problem with that was always the same: Why would I want to give up my warm, extra long dorm bed to sit on a greasy, orange Waffle House bench all night? I struggled with that once and came to the solid conclusion: I don't. Never once did I do it, but I did, however, make use of some of the quiet corners in our dorm building. The third floor had a lounge that no one ever used - it was great! That was my venue of choice for reading, meditation and good one on one, four hour conversations with friends. It had a huge floor to ceiling window that caught a panoramic view of the sunrise above the trees. It was so perfect for all nighters or for early mornings talking to God. I really miss that place. It still holds symbolic imagery for me: being near God.
I carry in my mind a lot of symbolic imagery in my mind. It consists of images of places I have been and the way I felt when I was there. I like the way John Eldredge mentions this in The Journey of Desire - but its been a while since I read it and I dont have the book handy, so I wont quote. But he explains these memories, whether they be associated with images, places, colors or smells, as monumental moments in which we felt God. We cant create or recreate these moments - we are blessed with very few but just enough to be burned into memory.
