When Ben woke me to eat at 3 am, I got him quickly back to sleep, but couldn't get there myself. My jaw still throbbing, my mind now buzzing, I tossed and turned for several hours. The amount of work that needs done feels entirely overwhelming. These calendar days are carrying so much, the numbers of heads at my upcoming table outnumbering my chairs. The amount I can do and the amount that needs done are not adding up. The hours that I need and want equal more than 24 a day. The emotional burdens are outweighing the surface area of my shoulders.
And the quiet and dark of night always magnifies it, doesn't it.
Things that need fixed, things that need done, things that need changed, things you want and need to be doing...it all weighs heavy and threatens our joy.
Which is when I'm keenly aware that my joy has been being misplaced along the way.
I was seeking it through rest or met expectations. Maybe through successes or happy moments or completed tasks. I was hoping for it from him or her, from them or me. From this or that.
I was looking for it through all my ducks in a row.
But I don't have my ducks in a row. I don't even seem to have ducks.
I have squirrels. And they are everywhere.
How easy it is for my emotions and truths to follow along! Scattered all over the place, up and down, being permitted to divide and bury my joy.
The truth He kept trying to interrupt my whirling thoughts with last night was simply this:
Your job is to be healthy with me.
As I tossed and turned, the idea of healthiness in Him kept poking my mental to-do list and my emotional overwhelm.
I cannot resolve every problem. But I can be close and well-rooted in Him.
I cannot be in every solution, but I can be in His word, in His communication, in His presence.
I cannot fix every person, not even my own beloved children. But I can be grounded and living peace out through Him.
I cannot bake every cookie, cannot clean every corner, cannot prepare every lesson, cannot process every invoice, cannot respond to every email, cannot meet every request, cannot even seem to present myself without baby boogies on my shoulder.
But I can be thriving and glowing in Him. I can carry the crosses with Joy, and the joy of the Lord is my strength.
I can, because He tells me I can.
I can, because He doesn't leave me alone to do it.
I may be unable to Martha all the Martha that needs Marthaing right now. (Luke 10)
But that which cannot be taken away...not by any darkness or disappointment or schedule or duck ro squirrel...is that which is better.
Mary-ing. Sitting at His feet, gleaning from the source, satisfying in His love, receiving what He is offering, following as close as I can to Him on the path He told us would be hard.
Just as the lepers that Jesus touched didn't give him leprosy, but received instead his cleaning, all the struggle I bring Him doesn't weigh Him down, but frees me.
The struggles and challenges and heartbreaks of the day affect us, for sure.
But when we are healthy in Him, the sicknesses of the day do not infect us.
Nothing can take that healthiness away. Nothing can shake that firm foundation. Nothing can destroy what He has built.
My diet is to be His word, my immunity is to be His truth, my rest is to be in Him, my focus is to be His face, my goals are to be His goals.
And when they are...our healthiness can affect all the sickness around us, instead of the other way around.
He came for the sick, praise the Lord. He shines in our darkness, praise the Lord. He carries our burdens, praise the Lord. And He's made space for me at His feet.
I'm settling back in there today, at His feet, in His touch. I'm not gonna be able to fix it all or carry it all or do it all.
But the very best thing I can do for the world, for the kingdom, for myself and for Him is to be healthy. I can bear the sweet fruit that the world around desperately needs by being healthily rooted in Our Savior, Our Redeemer, Our Helper, Our Father...and Our Friend.
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