The lights burn my tired eyes. The dishwasher hums. Kitchen chairs sit askew. Bicycle helmet and badminton rackets lay on the couch next to the book I was reading this afternoon. The fridge is littered with schedules and lists and reminders — all my attempts to organize this life. A glass bowl full of ripe pears on the counter along with three huge donated butternut squashes.
The kids asleep. The husband away. And me.
Me feeling like somehow life has gotten away, taken its joy and its wonder and sneaked away like a bandit.
Me feeling faithless, dried up and empty from so little time spent thinking and so much time spent doing.
Me feeling an ache for long meaningful conversation, about more than Kaisley’s bedtime adventures and robotic machines that sort money.
Me feeling like nothing matters.
It’s a tough gig, this motherhood business. It wears on us. We know, we know…it’s important stuff. We know. But when martyr-mom gives and gives until she feels like this empty, joyless, lack-luster shell of a person…something has gone wrong.
It always surprises me when a mom talks about the things SHE likes. And when I learn that she has friends. And spends time with them.
Motherhood is a much less joyful endeavor than I thought it would be, or even than it was two years ago. I’m burnt out.
It’s hard to see hope and light when things are dark, but Jesus promises strength. He brings to mind things that I’ve been forgetting, things that will help me get back on the right paths. He brings people into my life to encourage and bless me. He gives me what I need for another day.
“God arms me with strength, and he makes my way perfect.” Psalm 18:32 NLT
“So, friends, take a firm stand, feet on the ground and head high. Keep a tight grip on what you were taught, whether in personal conversation or by our letter. May Jesus himself and God our Father, who reached out in love and surprised you with gifts of unending help and confidence, put a fresh heart in you, invigorate your work, enliven your speech.”2 Thessalonians 2:16-17 The Message
God, I’ve completely lost my motivation for this work you’ve given me. My patience is gone. My ability to discipline creatively has disappeared. I’m barely surviving one day at a time. Please give me wisdom, patience, endurance, tenacity. Please make me a positive example, modeling empathy and grace. Bring my three year old to easy obedience, willingly. Somehow, could you impress upon our hearts your great love for us, so we can believe it and receive it? So it overflows? Teach us all to love each other more. Bring joy back into my heart, Lord. Thank you.