What I did this week
Never seemed like enough.
Always running behind,
Though I didn’t slack off.
Tried to juggle the duties,
Commitments, and breathe
When one falls by the wayside,
There’s no end of grief.
Nobody’s telling me I didn’t do
Or making a demand
But I’m drowning in a slew.
It’s my own standards I’m failing to meet.
When did I get so hard to please?
I’m feeling like life demands more than I’m capable of, sometimes. I don’t have the physical, emotional, or spiritual strength I used to, it feels like. My prayers are brief, and tired. Oh, I’m relying on God… because I have to. It’s overwhelming.
This week’s been a nightmare.
I worked at my outside job, a bakery, two days this week. I cleaned the bathroom, the living room, my room (not as much as I wanted to), helped clean the church, helped with three meals at home (that I can specifically remember, and I wanted to do more but…) spent most of a day with my older sister who’s moving and sort-of having a breakdown, wrote as much as I could, took my little sister to the mall ‘cuz she wanted time with me after my middle sister moved out, helped (though not very much) clean up after said move, tried to get some time in with the wee-est sister, opened, filled, and mailed boxes to people because I signed up for a fun box exchange with some friendly acquaintances that turned out to be delayed until the most insane week I had going, put up with extended-family drama, babysat while my parents went to look at a car because our van is dying, I was bussing to and from work, which took more time…
And I’m exhausted. My family is just as tired. I wonder if there’s ever going to be an end. It feels like I’m never going be fully ready to be an adult, and I’m overdue, that I’m still too childish. Some comments hurled during the drama have me wondering if I will ever do anything worthwhile. I was happy, enough. I thought I was pleasing God, and I wanted to do my best where I was. Am.
God’s not far: He doesn’t abandon His own. But dry periods hurt, and I wonder sometimes if He really is pleased with me, or if believing that is a load of hooey, something I’ve cooked up instead of really believing in the One True God. Have I strayed? Do I put too much stock in this earth? Am I burnt-out? Can I come back from this? Can I lead others to Him if I struggle this much?
This is a taste of the Valley of the Shadow of Death. Most people, in my shoes, would probably laugh and make it through just fine, but I’m struggling. I feel like I’m extremely weak, and I wish I could be strong. I wish I could say with confidence “I will fear no evil, for (He) is with me” (Psalm 23:4)… but I can’t. The best I have right now is “Lord, I believe. Help my unbelief!” (Mark 9:24)
I’m not giving up, not because I know that I can do it or that I believe enough or rightly… but because I know what the Bible says about God. “I know who I have believed, and am persuaded that He is able to keep what I’ve committed to Him until that Day.” (2 Tim 1:12) Where I struggle, He will sustain me. Where I fail, Christ’s blood will give me righteousness. I can trust Him, and He will give me peace. I am to do what I can, and He will provide the rest. I am to ask Him for His grace, and lean on Him.
It hurts. I’m weary. But I have to go on. And I will, by His grace.
As for the record of how much I did… I’ve written about 7 hours this week. Word count is in the wind.
*shrugs, then tunelessly begins to sing*
ALL WE ARE IS DUST IN THE WIIIIIIIND…
…(WAVE YOUR LIGHTERS IF YOU KNOW IT)…
Sorry. I don’t know that song, and I think it’s some strange hippie song if I’ve heard correctly, but I’ve heard a hilarious parody. Do you like fart jokes? My grandfather was a trucker, and they were among his family-friendly repetoire. If you do, you’ll enjoy this slice of insanity. 😉