It's been one of those days. Well one of those weeks. And I feel incredibly weary. My friends and family have all been encouraging me and urging me on, telling me I'm a good mum. I really appreciate it. But then none of you saw me yelling at my kids this morning, not having a clue how to persuade them to get out of the door to school. They yelled, I yelled back. It was not pretty.
My children's needs outstrip what I have to give them. It's probably the same if your kids don't have special needs, I don't know. And I run out of patience and energy.
I follow a lovely blogger who posts verses from the bible every day to meditate on. This week she was talking about how God sees our hidden moments that no one else sees. I think she meant it to be encouraging, that he sees those moments of everyday serving. The nappies or the shoes tied or whatever your everyday looks like. Trouble is, he sees the less pretty moments too. He saw our horrible morning.
And yet he still loves me.
On days like today I am oh so glad that he takes my wrongdoing, my anger and hard words and casts them away, as far as the east is from the west. *
And what do I do about my weariness? How do I find the resources to do another day?
'My strength is made perfect in weakness.'*
I'm not particularly strong or resilient. I just know a strong God. The thought that I have to find some kind of inner strength to manage on, to rely on myself only, is pretty scary. But luckily I know a God who never wearies, never leaves, who promises strength and peace and joy. In finding my own limits I am forced to turn to him and say, 'enough! Now let's do this your way.'
I have been reading Joni Eareckson Tada while sitting in various corners of Alice's nursery. How has it taken me so many years of being a Christian to read her books? They are wonderful. Today I read the following words, which actually belong to George Matheson. I could gush about them but they are so beautiful that I am going to let them speak for themselves.
O Love that will not let me go,
I rest my weary soul in Thee;
I give Thee back the life I owe
That in Thine ocean depths its flow
May richer, fuller be.
O Light that foll'west all my way,
I yield my flick'ring torch to Thee;
My heart restores its borrowed ray,
That in Thy sunshine's blaze its day
May brighter, fairer be. *
(Psalm 103:12; 2 Corinthians 12:19; George Matheson, (public domain, printed in 'Heaven: Your real home by Joni Eareckson Tada )
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