I couldn't sleep. I couldn't turn my brain off. I was not a happy camper. When I informed God of this, I wasn't very polite. This is part of the dialogue from early Sunday morning:
(NOTE: These are not direct quotes. God did not speak to me audibly.)

I don't understand what the heck is going on. Make it stop. God, make it stop. It's 3:30 am and, after hours of trying to sleep, I still can't turn the thoughts off enough to sneak away. I've prayed for the people in my head, I've reviewed all the mundane, I've had all the hypothetical conversations I can handle.
I don't want to think like this.

--You won't be you if you don't. And I want you.

Am I obeying now? I told you it would be lame, un-useful, bad writing. I told you it was pointless! Is this what you wanted? This scribbled page of incoherence? This is your will for me this morning? Rumors of jr. high poetry and a few sentences of emotional upheaval? You said to come to you when we're weary and heavy-laden. Well, I'm exhausted and my thoughts weigh more than I do. I want rest. I'm ok with losing sleep, but, God, I want rest...There! I filled a page. Have I paid the fare?

--You're not going to buy rest. That's not what we're doing here. I'm not a grand wizard that, when appeased, grants the beggars what they wish. Why are you angry with me when I just want to hold you?

I'm sorry...While you "hold me" what I produce, these pages, are...hang on...let me look up ugly and unacceptable in the thesaurus. They're not what they could be, and therefore not what they should be.

--You've done everything I've asked of you.

I've done it so poorly.

--Maybe that's the assignment. That's what I've asked you to do. Remember, "My power is made perfect in weakness." I am perfecting you. Isn't that what you wanted?

It is. I just don't get it.

--Remember when you were in the bookstore looking at those calendars with the eagles soaring and the sunsets and the beautiful calligraphy writing? Do you remember what you thought?

I wanted to worship you in my own handwriting (as opposed to calligraphy).

--You just did. These "scribbled pages" and "jr. high poetry."

I sat in silence then went back to bed.