I do not have time or energy for facades. I hit the wall today. You know, the wall where one glance and one more tantrum will take you to a puddle on the floor. The wall where all you want to do is run away but you know you cannot. I have been running on empty–or on autopilot, at least–for a good 8 months.
This season in our household has been particularly taxing. There have been some challenges that by themselves we could handle like a bump in the road. However, there has been one bump and pothole after another in a slow steady stream, and our tires and axels are bent and fatigued and we have some major whiplash. There is the thing about having small children though, they do not care if you are bent and fatigued and sore. They still need consistency and feeding and love and care and routine. They still awake with energy and pursue new skills and have deeper needs than autopilot will fill. They still need you fully engaged.
If these steady potholes of Occupational and Speech Therapy, of surgeries and hospitalizations, of viruses and Chronic Illnesses, of sleepless nights, of strong willed three year olds, of people in need, of emergencies, of financial strain, of ulcers, of success had not arisen, the lack of margin I created would go unnoticed. In my 39 years, I am learning things I need in order to be in tune and most alive–the me I am created to be. I need time to process, time to study, time to reflect. I need deep time with people–surface convos wear me out. I need time for creativity. I need to be able to help people and connect on the heart level. There is no space for these, and therefore, there is no space for me.
I prayerfully considered things in my schedule–they are good things. Some of them cannot go away, but they cannot all stay. I cannot be all things to all people. Women, WE CANNOT BE ALL THINGS TO ALL PEOPLE. No, really, I mean YOU–You cannot be all things to all people. We will crash and burn and the enemy will smile because our defenses are down and we are ripe for the picking to believe that we are failing at motherhood, at friendships, as a spouse, at our occupations, at helping others. There will be no space to take notice–of the blood red tree across from your house that is there to remind you of Jesus’ great love for you. There is no sense of humor to laugh with your little ones and actually enjoy them–yes, those precious ones that you never thought would be in your life. There is no energy to love your husband and to laugh with him and to remember why you chose to covenant this life with him.
This morning I was reminded to wait on the LORD. Wait–in eager expectation–on HIM–not on what He will do to fix my life, but ON HIM. Wait and eagerly yearn and reflect on who HE is. To make it, I MUST turn my heart and mind toward truth–The truth that I will not be disappointed by waiting IN and ON HIM. I will be disappointed if I just want Him to fix my circumstance to make me “happier.” Because there is always another “happy” token we want. He is the only one that satiates my thirst, but He first must remind me that I am dying of thirst. This season reminds me of that. Help me wait, Dear One. Help me EAGERLY look to who You are, to eternity with YOU. You are my HOPE, my SALVATIOn, my DELIVERER and my REFUGE–you are even my mechanic.