I am bone tired ...
...the kind of tired to my core where my insides ache.
I feel the downward pull and hollow desperation that makes me want to run and hide.
I try so hard ... all the time, to parent well.
So hard to nurture ...
So hard to guide ....
So hard to instill discipline ...
These children are amazing. And they are lively. And they are bright, and they are kind, and they are loving. Yet every moment guiding their energy and enthusiasm feels like trying to harness the power and intensity of an avalanche.
As you see it begin to gain speed, you realize if you don't bring it to a halt it will continue down the hill with such momentum it will destroy everything in its path. Nothing will be able to stop it but a force equal in strength.
And there I stand every day, attempting to restrain that power until it inevitably plows over me.
No wonder I'm tired.
And this is where I find myself...
...as if the very essence of who I am as a person is at odds with what I'm supposed to do each and every moment - loud, boisterous crazy in the face of the contemplative introvert.
...as if the one thing I always knew I wanted to do, no matter what, is slowing gutting me.
...to the point where I can barely feel the love I have for my children beyond the overwhelming desire to run to where they cannot find me.
And there is this whole other part of me ... the part that dreams and plans and has visions and excitement for God's work in the hearts and minds of the people in my faith community ...
... the part that is passionate about the power of God's love shared in relationship.
... the part that is so eager to gather the seeking and sow the seeds of discipleship and then send them out to walk faithfully with their neighbors that I get frustrated when I run into the inevitable walls of institutional structure.
... the part that longs to keep working when my two hours is up for the day and I must pack it in to greet whiny, grouchy, demanding children and undertake the minute by minute balancing act of setting boundaries and limits, of reminding and enforcing consequences.
And in the beauty of this mess, I am at the end of myself.
All I have the strength left to do is fall into the arms of a God of love and entrust myself and my amazing family to his care. Because the truth is, I was never strong enough on my own.