Every day this year I am learning resiliency. To snap back into place like so much worn out elastic, always pulled and stretched in so many conflicting directions, and my spring is gone.
So often I live a stretched life of threadbare weariness, sagging at the seams where all the parts of me connect.
I need the deep inhale of God each morning and then all day long as my days tread heavily and sway in a rhythm of the mundane, feeding children, teaching them, cleaning up, sneaking glances on Facebook, skimming a chapter of a good book while I stir onions and chicken on the stove, and grocery lines, and budgets that never stretch quite wide enough.
Sometimes I have nothing left when my normal day volleys back and forth between algebraic equations, phonics, multiplication, and read alouds read slow, our bodies tucked into the couch and overlapping. Sometimes when the dinner dishes are done and kids are bathed and tucked and retucked and threatened one last time to stay in bed, I wish this could be enough. Just these quiet moments dragging my body in close to my husband’s side and stacking the pillows around me, pulling the covers up high and feeling small and held.
But I think my need will be filled with long pauses or grand adventure, moments when I jump with both arms flung open wide and let God catch me in faith.
I think of imaginative ways to do more and be more and the only time I feel wide awake is when I think of everything I could be doing that is not my life. Not this life.
But mostly I think I need more sleep and money and time. A prettier face and a quicker wit. A sound mind instead of my tangled and unraveling thoughts.
I find myself ravenous, aching with need all of November and December.
I am hollow places longing to be filled.
I am so tired.
I begin to believe I just need more beauty and breath. I am gulping down deep and wishing for Sabbath to reclaim me and extinguish the burn in my soul. Smooth over the parts worth too thin and chaffing against my ordinary life, my ordinary self. I want to learn how to Sabbath right, and even this adds to my list of dos. I don’t know how to find rest.
I make lists and start projects I’m all too tired to complete.
I paint everything in my living room. I buy pillows. I hang colorful patterned curtains sewed in contrast to my dark nights.
I arrived at January with such a tangible hunger I wondered if I haven’t been famished my whole life. Filled with every wrong thing. The ribs of my desire encircling me sharp like a caged thing.
I am spending myself slowly at first, handing out no’s and setting boundaries. I must learn to keep Sabbath. I am rolled up sleeves fresh with zeal and passion and I burn fast and hard. But all too soon I am scorched, razed to the ground singed and scourged good for thinking I could pull this off.
If I’m honest I’ve passed through a thousand moods on my way here. I ride the steady rolling wave of depression every winter.
I don’t want to live a life devoted to crushing despair. To managing moods and curating my days into an accordion of highs and lows and always looking for an escape.
I ask God to teach me to rest, and He brings January like an invitation. I am being filled day by day. He gives me a word to hold onto. My one word for this year. Nourish.
I taste and am filled.
A lot has happened in January. This month of being filled, finding rest, and leaning into the meaning of being nourished by God. But I had to start here. I had to start with my hunger. I have a lot I want to share with you guys but I didn’t want to write a book. More on that later. So this is the start.
I’m unpacking my one word a little at a time so expect more next week. Also, my newsletter is going out early next week with more insider stuff I probably won’t share here including some of my ideas for this space. It’s more of a one on one conversation, an email from a friend, so if you want to be part of that, make sure to sign up here.
Oh I understand a life of threadbare weariness and when I step back and look at it from afar, I realize that I create so much of the sogginess and hustle and bustle. Your words breathe life – they fill-they teach-they comfort and they are a gift. Thank you for this gift today. Also, great to hang out with you virtually last night! Blessings!
SO fun to hang out online last Thursday. I sure do miss #fmfparty. I’m often curled up with a kid or two most nights, ALL of my children’s love languages are quality time and I’m the exact opposite as a hard core introvert so I’m trying to be better about not being distracted when I’m with them which makes it hard to get to the computer. But that night was so much fun. I hope to make it back to write with you guys sometime soon and thank you so much for the encouragement. It’s hard to start again sometimes.
Oh my goodness. This. Me. So so much. I feel so threadbare and worn out lately. I know I am spending my life in good ways, but I wonder if I should be this exhausted and hungry and weak feeling. I’m tired of carrying myself around. I think our heart beats must sound the same.
Yes, this month has been a gift to me. I’ve felt better than I have in a long time, because the past few months were so incredibly hard. I’ll be trying to write more about it all but I knew I had too much to say and this blog post would be 6000 words so…. I thought I’d start back there and work my way forward. And yes, we are obviously kindred, as you’ll see when we vacation in Bend and Costa Rica together. 😉
I love that you’re back, Alia. But I already penned those words to you yesterday.
He nourishes you. You nourish us. We nourish each other.
I’m sharing your post over at Creekside. In the sidebar. You are so shareworthy, friend …
May Sabbath rest be your delightful portion.
Thank you so much for the warm welcome back. It’s always so nice to reconnect and yes, we nourish each other. I’m so thankful for your encouragement.
“If only I was more…” this is my mantra all the time. So frustrating. Thanks for sharing.
Isn’t it frustrating? I hate it. And I wish I didn’t think it so often.
Nourish! So many ways to be nourished — healthy food, clean water, time with friends, quiet time to contemplate, reading God’s Word… Sounds like you will have a great year! May God nourish you this year.
Yes, so many ways. I’m leaning into new ways of finding rest and being nourished in my body, my spirit, and my soul. It’s a great word to describe what I feel God is calling me to this next year.
I don’t even know how I stumbled across your blog, Alia, but I enjoyed your post…. So honest and soul-bearing; and sometimes even painfully so… I believe this is the best way to come to God….
I just want to say, He sees you, He sees your effort, He is intimately aware of your yearnings. And He WILL nourish you this year as you lean into Him….
Love and hugs from Omemee, Ontario, Canada
Well however you got here, welcome. I agree, coming to God hungry only means being filled. Thank you for your grace.
This has been me since just before Thanksgiving. I think I’m coming up for air and getting some rest, only to discover a new level of exhaustion. I have lists in my head a mile long of to-dos, necessary and frivolous, but can’t seem to do much more than drive, do some laundry, a find a bite to eat. Hanging on is enough of an accomplishment right now and anything else is bonus. Hoping you find your rest and refreshment in the upcoming days. So thankful that you blessed us with these words. I’ve missed them!
Awww, thanks sweet friend. I do hope you find some rest too. I’ve been well and doing pretty good in that department until this last week. Some dental issues and constant jaw pain and no sleep make for a very humbling experience when I’m trying to both rest and get things done but overall it sure feels good to be back. I’ve missed everyone. It’s like a ghost town around here. 😉