the Unicorn Yoke

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There are days when freedom to choose what to do is a great burden. This week I am feeling the combination of anticlimax (after my sister’s wedding), spring fever, and Santa Ana winds (i.e. heat and headaches). It’s exactly the kind of week when I drift listlessly from one unproductive, compulsive activity to another–looking at the internet too long, organizing my earrings–and the lack of real “work” leaves me feeling small and discontented even as I constantly reject all chances to write or tackle projects from my to-do list.

A couple of weeks ago, my daughter and I made this cardboard model of a yoke for a Bible class. The only animals she had of the right size to try it out on were unicorns, and I find the image of yoked unicorns compelling. In a week like this, I feel like a wild unicorn plunging madly through the forest, eyes rolling, resisting all advice in my fierce independence. And what I need is not more independence, or more rest, but a loving Master to calm me down, put on a rainbow-colored polka-dotted yoke, and give me some good steady work.

In his presence, I can go plow a rainbow. In straight lines. One step at a time.