The most dreaded day arrived. January 13, 4:45 a.m. My alarm provokes me from deep slumber and I
instantly recollect…today is the day.
This is the day we’ve dreaded for months. Work summons my dear husband away for 8 weeks
and I will "wing it" as mom, dad, teacher, nurse, police and whatever career beckons
my attention. Tight throat makes
breathing laborious and tears fill the rims of my sleepy eyes.
“I can do this…I can do all things through Christ who
strengthens me. He’ll be home most
weekends. I can do this.” The rehearsed script plays through my mind as
I dig for strength. And in one moment,
his headlights fade off into the early, thick darkness.
“I have no choice. I
have to do this.”
And I do. Week one
surprisingly ends before I know it. Being
around other people puts a smile on my face and strength floods my bones. Before I realize it, it’s week 2. Week 2 comes and goes…we’re actually making
it! Through some mountain peaks and
valleys, one day at a time, one moment at a time, we survive.
Yet, here I am, midweek of week 8, the final week. My dear husband will be home for good in 2
days. Common sense says I should be
thrilled, excited and turning somersaults.
But somehow, all the positive attitudes and rehearsed, mental pep rallies and
strength from deep within have seemed to dissipated into nothing. My cup sits dry, there is nothing to runneth
over.
Why…when at the end of this marathon season, do I feel
utterly empty and dry, with nothing left to give. Only 2 days!!
Surely I can get a grip for 2 days!
Perhaps it has something to do with the endless and singlehandedly dealings of piles
of laundry and stacks of papers to grade and drilling long division over and
over with no success and neighbor’s pit bulls destroying our fence only to make
it's home in our yard. Or perhaps it’s
the chocolate overload, repeatedly tripping over remote cars in the middle of
the floor, the mountain of dishes in the sink and the inches of western WA rain
that soaks and drenches and never ends, day after day…never giving me the
chance to even get to curl my hair!
Whatever the cause, I’m dry. I’m
finished. I have nothing left.
That is, until the Lord himself turned my attention to His
beautiful Word:
“So let’s not get tired of doing what is good. At just the right time we will reap a harvest
of blessing if we don’t give up.”
(Galatians 6:9 NLT)
Thank you, Jesus, for reminding me. Thank you for turning my eyes to the truth of
your goodness.
And although, for today, this verse inspires me to finish
strong these last 2 days, these words also remind us to not give up every day
for we know our final harvest is a heavenly harvest! And what a return that will be! Until then, keep your focus, draw from Christ
and finish strong.
Join me and let's work this field of life together, regardless of the sweat and muscle that's required. And one day, I hope
to sit next to you and share a harvest meal in the presence of God, reflecting on all His goodness.
Blessings.
