I will confess right here that this week I am more than tired.
I have fought the good fight, tried hard to endure and worked myself nearly to death and in the end can’t move the challenging situations I face one inch closer to resolution.
And like I’ve written before here,these months and years after Dominic ran to heaven have amply demonstrated the truth of the phrase “the straw that broke the camel’s back”. It’s not the STRAW, it’s the unbelievable heavy weight the camel is already carrying!
That last, seemingly tiny, almost weightless additional burden sends the poor critter over the edge.
But unlike a dumb animal, I don’t get to just lay down and give up. My head and my heart tell me that if I do, the load will just shift to my family. If I quit I can’t simply drift off into witless sleep where I don’t realize how hard I’m making it for everyone else.
So I don’t give up.
I keep on keeping on.
I raise my eyes to the sky and beg God to give me the grace and strength and help to endure.
I beg for mercy-for some small token that things might just get better.
I lean into the promises of God in Christ and hold on with both hands.
What else can I do but keep praying to You even when I feel dark;
to keep writing about You even when I feel numb;
to keep speaking Your name even when I feel alone.
Come, Lord Jesus come.
Have mercy on me, a sinner.
It’s hard sometimes to admit that I’ve reached the end of my physical strength.
I’m much more adept at finding the edges of my emotional limits. I’m even half-way good at understanding that my brain just isn’t what it used to be.
But giving up on getting up? That feels like defeat to me.
But it’s not.
I am a fragile human being and just like all human beings have limits. My body can only take so much. If I push too far past the boundary of exhaustion it will take more than rest to bring it back to working order.
So today, after six weeks of stress, mental strain and travel, I’m resting.
Not just sitting down for a few minutes between chores but curling up with a book and glass of tea and not moving all day.
At least that’s my plan.
We’ll see how it goes.
I really need to rest.
I hope I can.
Yesterday was one of those days-a mixed bag. I enjoyed an unseasonably cool yet sunny day but sorrow was sighing in the blowing breeze.
I’ll be honest:
I want to quit.
I want to give up.
I’m tired of hauling the extra weight of grief while trying to do the everyday.
Every. single. thing. is harder and takes more effort than it used to.
I want a time-out!
I’d take even two minutes of absolute unadulterated rest and joy.
I am stronger and more capable than I was, but today, this minute-I’m just plain tired.
I’m often teetering on the brink of despair and forced to throw out my arms in a desperate attempt to maintain my balance.
Six months ago, in one of my first posts, I wrote:
One reason grief is so exhausting is that every step I take is on a balance beam of faith and hope.
I must navigate every necessary task without falling off.
Read the rest here: Walking The Balance Beam