I bargain with myself to get out of bed. I hide under covers of polyester and cotton – a tucked-in heap of mess. It’s warm there and the squish of the pillow feels soft against my cheek. Maybe I’ll just stay here. The sun shines through curtains partially open. There is a world beyond the glass. It still spins – somehow without me, not all of me anyway. Part of me lives elsewhere.
This world is not my home so I’ve been told. I dream of heaven in grandiose splendor… the place my husband lives. I close my eyes and bask in images of its beauty. Waterfalls sparkle, love is felt, and the air is sweet. I fill my head with peaceful dreams – the awake kind. It dulls the terrors from sleep interrupted nights and brings a comfort I can’t describe. I love picturing heaven, not because Im ready to be there, but because picturing Thale in heaven is far better than my last images of him.
The call of the day pokes its bony finger into my back and begs for attention. I throw down the covers and force my feet to the floor. Two beautiful daughters await me after all. My jobs are here. My home is here. I dig up the brave. There isn’t a choice.
**** After losing my husband, I found it hard most days to get out of bed. How do we accomplish daily tasks when the first step of getting up seems impossible? Too many times I have tried to do things in my own strength only to find I had none. To this day I find the need to remind myself, we can't do it all. If we could do everything and be everything, what room would that leave for God?
2 Corinthians 12:9-11 (NIV) says "But he said to me, 'My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.' Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. That is why for Christ's sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.
Lord, Thank you for being strong when we are weak. Thank you that we can find rest as your power rests on us. Thank you that we don't have to be strong for the world, we just need to turn to you. Thank you that we can come to you raw, battered or bruised and you see us for who we are. I pray we can give ourselves permission to be real, to be weak, to be able to ask for help. You tell us in Psalm 121 "my help comes from the LORD." Thank you for your help in the strong name of Jesus, Amen.
He whispers, “You don't have to be enough.