I’m so tired y’all, are you?
I was researching the Word tired the other day and stumbled across the Urban Dictionary definition:
“When you’re just done with all the bull crap in life.”
Can you relate?
It’s like I was curled up in a comfy bed a few months ago, snuggled with my favorite routines and people. Then one day, I realized someone was piling blanket upon blanket over me without my permission. Now it feels heavy. Now it feels binding and hot. Too hot. But my hands are pinned down and I can’t remove the weight that’s been draped over me.
So I wait. And I pray.
And as my eyes peer over the covers, I see others who are pressed down. Some are struggling to become unbound, while others lay in silence, hoping for rescue.
It’s exhausting. The waiting. The decision making. The division I’m witnessing. The suffering I have to watch at a distance.
It’s mentally and emotionally exhausting.
Have you felt it? Headaches, sore muscles, slow reflexes and responses, or moodiness? These are some of the effects of being tired. Exhaustion is nothing to ignore or dismiss. It affects not only us, but those we live with.
How do you cope when you’re tired? Do you nap? Grab a coffee and carry on? Or like me, do you sometimes find yourself in a puddle of tears?
That’s where I was the other day. Sobbing in my carpet, on my knees with my Bible in one hand and Kleenex in the other. It’s not that I wonder where God is, because I know He’s in our midst. It’s not that I’m at my wits’ end, because I know He’s working this all out. I just found myself needing to unload and let go.
Everything is not ok, and honestly, it may never be again. At least not the old version of “ok”. And I think we need to be good with that.
No matter how we address this “pandemic fatigue” (it’s a real term y’all), it’s important that we don’t push it aside. It’s a part of who we are during this season of constant changing and adapting. And it will demand our attention, even if we don’t want to admit it’s there.
We’ve been given the free gift of grace from Christ and it is ours to drink in. It’s compassion, love and mercy all rolled into one and there is no better way to implement self-care into our routines than to extend grace to ourselves right now.
We may need extra rest or extra calories. We may need to let the tears flow more often. And we definitely need more alone time with the Lord.
If you’ve ever felt too intimidated to pray, look at how Jesus’ prayer time went and see if it doesn’t seem familiar:
1. He talked to God at all hours. There’s no set time you have to do it.
2. He often found Himself in the mountains or near a body of water to pray. There’s no set place to do it.
3. He was often interrupted while praying. There’s no perfect opportunity to do it.
We are all a little tired. Let’s extend some grace to ourselves and in turn, urge our loved ones to drink it up as well. There is no better time than now to pray, even if all we do is cry.
Our tears are precious to the Lord. They’re an indicator that we need Him. And boy, do we need Him. He’s the only unchanging piece of this equation right now.
No blanket has been tossed on us that didn’t first come through His hands. And we don’t have to like it. But, there is always good to be seen, even if we aren’t feeling it.
Perhaps if we let go of the idea that “it will all eventually be ok”, we would better appreciate what we have now.
I’m praying and shedding tears for many these days. Learning to extend the grace I’ve been given to myself and to those around me. I’m looking for the good in between the tears and the weighted layers. It’s there. And sometimes it may take a good cry before are eyes are clear enough to see it.
“You keep track of all my sorrows.
You have collected all my tears in your bottle.
You have recorded each one in your book.“ Psalm 56:8
“Those who plant in tears
will harvest with shouts of joy.” Psalm 126:5