It’s one of those days.
I’m tired. Bone tired. And I don’t really know why. I got enough sleep last night. I’m not in the midst of a crisis. I’m not sick.
But I am weary. I look out the window and I will myself to write something profound and all that comes to me is “Oh look, a leaf blowing.”
While I’d like there to be a clear reason so that a dose of hope will be infused on a blah day, I think I’m just weary of slugging it out with life. Transitions are exhausting. If you want to roll your eyes and be all “get over it and move on, I’m sick of hearing about transition.” Trust me, I’m sick of it too. I weary of myself :), but I can’t seem to escape me.
Last week I was snowshoeing in the mountains on a beautiful trail. A wide open space of powder to my right beckoned to me. It was fun for a while to be in the pristine white snow forging my own path. But it took so. much. more. energy.
I think that’s why I’m weary. I’ve been off road for a while and though the journey is beautiful, it’s taking more energy than a clearly marked path. All of life takes energy, but I’m not usually aware of my eyes being sore just because I’m awake.
Last week at Velvet Ashes the prompt was to write a letter to ourselves and one of the ideas was to write to our younger selves. Notice there is no letter, I just couldn’t do it. Dear Younger Self, you know that crappy phase you went through in college where you had to leave one campus group for another because you were pigeon holed? Guess what, it’s going to happen 20 years later again, only this time it’s also going to be 20 times worse and cost you more than you can imagine. Just a little love from the future :). Your Older Self.
If you’re weary and tired, you’re not alone. I know that this is a season of life and Lord willing, it will pass.
Today I remember the scripture, “Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.”
And I say, Jesus, please make good on your reassurances.
The end to part one. This was written last week at the library. By the time I got home I had an email in my inbox that helped penetrate my weariness and later this week I’ll share about it. It’s tempting to rush past weariness so we will resist the urge and for now we’ll park here.