Success Is Not Found in Making My Bed Each Morning

Success is not found in
making my bed
each morning.
I should know
because the sheets trail
over the floor today, most days—

thrown down as
catawampus as we left them
when we woke,
and I do not find a failure in this.
It wasn’t failure, either,
when I curled up in the jersey sheets
the night before
and asked God— 
“is it okay to watch a show?”
Okay for some levity
after the hearing of the Wordafter the bent knees on the hard floor
after the worship song from the 90’s,
which recalls me to my childhood
and to faith.
Is it okay to reach out for a laugh
when the worry spins
hamster wheels
in my head at bedtime?

I won’t count the show my success
(though New Girl made me laugh
of course).
Just this unsettled
abiding
in this corporate House of Mourning.

Just this stalwart hope
in You.