Trying, but Drained

Do you ever feel as if you’ve given your all and there’s nothing left? I mean, you’re more than drained. You’re not an empty cup, no. Instead, you’re more of a squeezed out lemon that’s been tossed onto the counter to dry out and harden. No one even cared to throw you into the compost heap where at least you might have had the chance to decompose into something useful someday. Nope. You’ve been left to just sit there beside all the more useful kitchen tools and fresh recipe ingredients. You have just been forgotten. They didn’t even notice you enough to throw you away.

I’m being dramatic. I know. Trust me, I get that. It’s easy to feel dramatic on one of these days, however. On a day when I’ve argued with my hubby because I feel so unappreciated. It’s a day that seems to last a year. It’s never over, and there is rarely any urge to smile.

Then, the temper tantrum of all 3 year old temper tantrums happens. A full hour of screaming because we didn’t have the exact right drink available in the refrigerator. Tomorrow, we’ll have a gallon of that one drink, but that won’t help. He will cry because we’re using the wrong colored towel for his bath or his sister is using the red straw but his is just plain white, which, if course, is unacceptable. Thanks to that tantrum, there are tears in the back of your throat. And how do you tell someone that you feel like you’ve been crying the whole hour because that’s the effect that these tantrums have on you. Thank God, this time there were three responsible, reasonable adults trying to help calm him and nothing worked. So you realize it’s not your fault. But you can’t really relax right now because your nerves refuse to listen to your logic. They say, “Listen, Linda, what’s done is done. You’re going to be nervous all night. Just deal with it, okay?” And you really try to.

But, you’re just not ready to feel better yet. You aren’t over it. You’re not snoring as you usually do at this hour. Instead, you’re praying one long whine toward heaven while you shower, hoping it’ll help. Then, you pray some more, hoping that’ll help. Nothing works tonight, even the most advanced tried and true cures. So I blog.

Is it working? Yes, actually. Yes, it is. Because I believe that someone’s been squeezed out in that great big world, and they will read this message today. They will read it and find hope. They’ll smile as I do so often when hearing someone share openly about their crisis moments. “I’m not alone,” they’ll say. And they’ll take a minute to breathe and to soak up a bit of God’s love and approval. Through that process, they will realize that they can do this. They will do this. And the world will change under their very feet with each step they take. Because gentle love has power.

Let God’s gentle love empower you to refill for the journey. Would you? Let me know when you do. I’m praying for you. God bless you, and cling to hope.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *