Exhaustion--my nemesis and my friend, I am pushing you away but for a little longer so I can accomplish just a few more things that beg my attention. You make me observant, you make me frustrated, you make me productive, and you make me cry.
Your clutches beg me to crawl into bed, close my heavy eyes, breath deeply, and let the stress melt for a few short hours of peace. It's amazing what you make me think. You make me look at the three college kids I passed outside the theater after dropping my sister off and think "it's late and I bet you don't have a reason for being awake. You should go to bed." You made me work through a million wedding needs tonight. You make me pass road construction, look at a mangled cone, and think of the poor person going too fast that hit it. You make me see the two men blending in to the darkness with no reflective clothing as I drive. You don't keep me from remembering to lock my doors as I pass--ensuring I make it safely. You made me look at the half moon rising above the city and wish I was out by the lake watching the twinkling beauties in the sky sea of stars--only to fall asleep beneath them.
Tiredness, you make my stomach ache. You make my fingers shake. You have made me look at a caring rebuke from someone I admire and take it as an insult and a reason to hide and be angry. You are being used as a weapon against me right now. I don't like it.
In short, you have made me cry.
I can't escape you. I can't wish you gone, open my eyes, and you vanish forever. I cherish every moment where you aren't hounding my brain or making me see wee morning hours.
Sweet, Jesus, protect me from the emotions of exhaustion. As I am tempted to succumb to tears of hurt, frustration, desperation, and utter exhaustion, wrap me in Your arms. Surround me with Your support. Grant to me rest of body, mind, and soul. Help me to wake with YOU my forethought--my goal of the day--my joy--and my hope that "it came to pass." Help me to take criticism as it was intended and apply it for learning, not for anger. That is not of You. May I see that. May I be a wise woman, careful in tongue and written word, to bring honor to myself, my husband, and most importantly to You.
Seeking Your rest,
Sarah
1 comment:
I wish I were there to hold your head on my shoulder, rub your hair, wipe your tears, and listen to your contented coos as I rock and pray you to sleep. I fear the shoulder which brought you such peace as an infant is no longer the one upon which you rest to find solace. I know that is as it should be. Jesus has the shoulder upon which I cry...and His is big enough for the both of us!
Instead I know the words that brought the very tears of which you speak are probably penned by the same hand that longs to wipe them. You are so right...those words were not a criticism..nor even a rebuke...but a gentle reminder to a young woman who made me promise to encourage her to remain positive in the face adversity.
Indeed, our enemies--exhaustion and tiredness--have twisted that encouragement and almost put "besties" on the bad list. :)
Rest, dear daughter, as I spend this wee morning hours praying for you--that you rest deeply and awaken refreshed by the Hope of your calling.
One Lord! One Passion!
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