Sometimes I don’t feel strong. Other times it’s even worse, and I feel weak … exhausted … lost. We’re taught that only the strong survive. To put on a brave face and soldier on. But what happens when I can’t soldier anymore? When my arms aren’t strong enough for the task, and my heart can barely hold on to the last strands of hope?
Jared and I drifted apart in the months after Dillon was born. It wasn't a subtle drifting, like rowboats that slipped their knots and meandered off to sea in the quiet of night. We saw it. Felt it. Watched it happen. Each of us in a boat without paddles, our cupped hands pawing furiously at the water. Calling out with loud voices until exhaustion took over. Our commitment to one another and to our marriage didn't waiver. But our connection did.
I'm pretty much the last person on earth qualified to write about strength training. Sure, we have a metal mountain of a weight setup in our garage, but I've never used the thing. About once a month I make it in to Cardio Barre to do this amazingly intense ballerina-style workout, and I collapse on the floor in a flop sweat about half way through while other hardcore women twice my age continue to keep with it.
Today is the day the Lord has made. An amazing day. Full of the glory of His goodness. His gentle instruction. His provision, protection, and promises. If your day started out like mine, it may not feel like that.
I think it happened somewhere around the time of our son's birth. Or maybe during his transition from milk to solid foods, or one daycare to another. Perhaps sometime the first season ... or second phase ... of job changes and promotions. Or ministry growth and business opportunities.Maybe in the midst of never-ending home projects. Somewhere along the way, I flipped on the switch for my marriage autopilot and our trajectory shifted.
Sitting in my worn white Ikea chair, pulled up to my cluttered Ikea desk—yes, Craigslist and Ikea furnish my house—the surroundings taunt me. The taunting comes not from all the things left to do, but because all these things bring me joy ... well, once brought me joy ... and I want them to again. I'd like to blame the clutter on recent travels, exciting projects, or even my adventurous toddler, but that wouldn't be true. Or fair.
Grace: unmerited favor. To give good that is not deserved. We need grace everyday. And then, there are days like today, that could benefit from a double helping. The funny thing is, I'm so much better at giving grace to others than I am giving it to myself.