I am heading for year 40 and I’m still wandering, lost, in the wilderness. I truly feel like one of those Israelite women walking through the desert and trying to cope with a new child while being unsettled, confused and desperate, wondering what the heck Moses and God were doing, knowing that I’m near greatness but somehow on the outskirts and so busy caring for my kids that I couldn’t join in even if I tried. I wonder how those women coped?
And what about when they had their period? Were they then outcast to a separate camp to deal with it? And what happened to their kids during that time? I guess they had family nearby. It’s times like these I long for my family. I wish they were here to help with the load of child rearing, the load of work and study commitments, the load of my sheer inability to cope.
I am lost in a vast wilderness and so very very confused. I set out to achieve things in good faith,… but fail repeatedly. Usually because I give up at 80% – hubby says I give up at 90% (slightly more frustrating than 80%, methinks). It is all too hard, all too much. I can’t go on.
Lord God, how many times have I scrunched my life up like that damn scrap paper and started over. I know what my weaknesses are. I just don’t know how to overcome them. I can’t remember where I put things.
As Scott would say, I’m missing some ‘structure’.
I’m missing that plastic thing that holds a six-pack together. I wish people couldn’t see that, but I know it’s glaringly obvious. I see it in other mums at school,… coping but barely. We smile at each other, a weak but knowing smile. It says little more than ‘I understand’. It’s all we can muster on desperate days.
I look to fill my spirit with something, anything. I can’t wait for Sunday. I need something NOW! Food, books, art, new nails, my favourite radio show, coffee, shopping. Anything that will give me a break from THIS. Anything that will allow a moment’s escape from the chaos.
I know I should be sitting at the feet of the Father, but somehow I’ve gone deaf. I can’t hear Him anymore and I blame myself. All those sleep-deprived Sundays where I chose to stay home rather than go to Church. The baby’s too young, I couldn’t hear a word and it made me angry – like I was wasting my time there.
The Holy Spirit whispers that I just needed to sit in His House. That’s all I needed to do. He required no more in those broken days when sleep was more precious than Gold and doctors were threatening me with yet another diagnosis. Jesus just wanted me to sit on His couch.
And that’s when I remember that God is not a school teacher, He is love.
Where did I put the tissues?
“She had a sister called Mary, who sat at the Lord’s feet listening to what he said“. Luke 10:39
(Read the read of the section in context in Luke 10:38 – 42)