There is a dog barking a chorus of complaint in the backyard and I can barely think a thought to completion. My thoughts about our beloved pet are not nice right now. In fact, my thoughts about most everything are not nice right now. I'm tired, surly and ready to snap at the first innocent passerby. Lovely introduction, right?
Most people like to label themselves; things like "I'm an extrovert" or "book nerd" are a couple that come to mind. I believe these can sometimes let us off the hook from the reality of some pretty honest situations. We can safely say, "I don't want to people right now" if we make sure to assert our introverted ways, nobody gets hurt, feelings are spared and we can play nice later on. I find this very helpful for most situations, but right now, for me, a certain situation looks like this;
I love people. God created some amazing ones. They make me feel all kinds of tender things, especially the younger, smaller variety, however; I have had my fill of them and all of their needs. Why so many needs?? The tender feelings are turning to survival-ish clawing and biting ones and this is exactly when I know I need a time out. My love tank is dry. As in, you couldn't find a drop in there right now and that is after a two hour nap and a solid caffeine hug. I could blame it on some natural introverted tendencies, easily. But, I'm not a classic introvert and I am not as ready to label myself as much as I would have just a few short months ago. What I will admit is this: I'm completely poured out. Every ounce of goodness I had in me, I spared to those around me and now I need to refill, refresh and regain the laser sharp focus I'm widely known for (my friends are allowed to laugh here...there have been many a joke about distracting, shiny things made at my expense). But, you know what? This is a beautiful way to be. Just ask my family (laugh again, here).
Broken.
Poured out.
In desperate need of strength I do not have.
Wanting to burn all of the clothes that require washing.
Thoughts of breaking dishes that continually require loading and unloading.
Making sixteen PB & J's a week are haunting me and I stabbed one with a butter knife this morning and stuck my tongue out at it.
The Goldfish crackers that show up EVERYWHERE are mocking me and I've declared war on all snack crackers.
SHUT. UP. DOG.
All the makings of things women rarely share with one another in attempts to hide our fragile humanness, I'm waving around in public. I don't want to play the "everything is perfect" game. I want to let it be that I am tired, irritable, hard to love and extremely prone to chocolate right now. And. It. Is. Well.
You know who shows up the strongest, fastest and most able during times like these? The lover of my cranky soul, Jesus. He will take me just like this and when I said His name as I hit the wall of "overwhelmed" at full speed, it was He who came low and scooped me up in the gentlest way. Today, as I sit and listen to the dog barking her fool head off and ALL of the kids playing in the front yard like wild, unschooled jungle heathens, I can breathe in peace and exhale praise. Yeah, I really can. The world doesn't stop spinning when my head is starting to. Ever faithful, ever present, God is looking after His children and I don't have to do a thing but sit back and soak in His love. The laundry will be there tomorrow. The Christmas shopping that I've put off, it will get taken care of. The dinner will be phoned in and picked up. The kids will pile into beds tonight, mostly clean and entirely loved and those whispered breaths of prayers will reach Heaven because it is right here, in the middle of this life that has left me vulnerable and undone. His will is being done when I admit my need instead of labeling it as what others might view as a flaw. I surrender the ideas of being a lesser woman because this world is tough and raising actual humans is supremely difficult. I accept the truth that God's grace is sufficient and His glorious power is being made perfect in my weakness. Even if it looks like a large pepperoni and sweatpants all day. He's covering me, blessing me and providing for my every need. Lord, you do show so much mercy. Candy Cane Hershey kisses are proof.
I believe that Jesus remembers what poured out and broken felt like in a way I will never experience. Yet, He never holds that against me. As we have our very own communion, I find myself being filled.
Tomorrow, I have faith that I will wake up with a sense of purpose that doesn't look like scowling at my offspring, ignoring my emails or growling at my husband. I'm choosing to believe that as I exercise this most holy form of worship, called "rest", my soul is being given the very love it needs to get up and glorify the Kingdom in the days to come. I am enjoying this time, the sweetness of God's capable hands are all over my life and the impossible standards of the world seem miles away. A few moments of discomfort while admitting that I can't do it all have saved me from the resentment of trying to do it all and failing. Grace wins again. I pray I steward this gift wisely.
Friends, striving can be fatal to love. Once you step out of doing anything for the right reason, you immediately step into doing it for the wrong reason. Forcing yourself to "make" things happen will leave you bankrupt of energy and love, both of which are necessary to thrive and make a Kingdom impact. I encourage you to find some time to savor one of the gifts of your inheritance as a child of God; rest. Let Him take care of you. He truly will take care of the rest.
"For whoever has entered God's rest has also rested from his works as God did from His."
Hebrews 4:10
