So here’s the thing:
We’re all struggling in some way. We’re all hurting, healing, hoping, failing.
I’ve had several conversations with clients this week–and it’s only Tuesday–about personal demons they’re wrestling, addictions they’re battling, marriages they’re fighting for; working mothers who are experiencing complete exhaustion, and way too much physical illness. They’re trying but it’s not working. They’re running but their feet are tripping.
Finn’s in this weird clingy, fearful phase. It took us a literal hour to get him to sleep Sunday night. We eventually had to tell him if he didn’t stop crying, we’d take away his trains. It worked. Drop-off at school has been terrible. He bawls as soon as he wheels through the door.
He covers his ears every time Paisley (or any other kid) cries–and it’s not an ear issue. He won’t let me go through the garage door before him; worried I’ll leave him behind. I have to take deeper breaths and pray for more energy, more creativity and more patience to be his mom lately. It’s just a phase. He’s a kid.
Maybe you’re in a “phase” yourself. Maybe you need an extra dose of grace and love from your Father lately.
We are such broken people, so hourly in need of our Savior, Redeemer, Friend.
I cling to this passage:
“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.” (Matthew 11:28-30)
Write this on your mirror. Tattoo it with ballpoint to your palm. Post-it-note-it to your dashboard. Text it to yourself. My natural tendency is to try and try and try until I stop failing. This is futile. I’m so thankful for His invitation to come to Him, to breathe deeply, inhaling His peace and exhaling our stress and pain. Heal us, Lord.