I.Am.Tired.

I don’t mean the sleepy- kind of tired either (but there is that element too).

My bones are tired.

My heart is weary.

My head aches from heaviness.

My soul yearns for fresh…life.

My husband and I were talking today, after my umpteenth nap day in a row, that I am a woman called into ministry who is not able to minister…at least not in the way I felt the Lord had called me to.

The thing is, I am not in a physical position to commit to anything and that makes me feel useless.

I feel stagnant.

I feel washed up.

Perhaps this is only a season I am experiencing…or perhaps it is how things are just going to be now that I am living this new life with Crohn’s disease.

I spoke to my mother today and said to her that I feel hopeful that my condition will improve but I am not promised that it will…at least not in the way I want it to.

In my 1000th tearful talk with my husband, I asked how on earth can I do what I believe I am called to do when I don’t know if I can function enough to get out of bed from day to day?

How can I speak encouragement to others when I am continually speaking through my own tears and exhaustion?

I am scared to commit to doing what I long to do when I am afraid I won’t physically be able to prepare properly….or I may be able to prepare but on the given day to speak out I can hardly lift my arms to dry my hair…

Who wants to hear that woman?

Who wants to watch those tears when people have their own burdens?

I know we are to share our burdens and be transparent- trust me, that is my life motto: to be a woman of absolute integrity no matter who is or is not around.

But, let’s face it, people don’t go to church to watch their pastor fall apart do they?

Well folks, I could well be that pastor…and don’t know what to do about it…so I don’t do anything right now.

I am not completely feeling sorry for myself- don’t let me give off that impression…

I do have support.

I have phenomenal friends.

I have a great job.

My sons are fantastic helpers.

My husband is a saint.

I have a wonderful doctor who is working his hardest to get me back on track.

I do have hope.

However, the process is weighing so heavy on me.

I told my husband that I believe in the One who has called me out of the crowd to serve Him…and I believe in the call..

But the journey is wearing me down.

I sit here tonight with a heavy heart that matches the heaviness of my tear-worn eyelids thinking in the quiet emptiness of my house…

I keep thinking I thought I knew where I am going, what I want…But do I really?

Is what I want to do something I can do?

Certainly isn’t right now.

So what now then?

I can’t possibly be alone in these thoughts. There has to be others out there who are tired and worn…who maybe do want or need someone equally as tired and worn to speak to them.

To speak truth to their hearts because that truth of endurance is being lived out in front of their eyes.

I can handle many things…but tired is seemingly never ceasing…it doesn’t lift..and brings friends called “depression”, “anxiety”, “doubt”, “insecurity”. They like to linger before and after naptime….in the quiet.

I don’t have many answers tonight.

All I can offer is what I keep speaking to myself- keep fighting, keep moving, you are alright, you are enough as you are, you can do this…one day it will end so press on Amy. Press through Beloved.

I heard a song by Bethel music tonight that spoke to my inner being…its lyrics could have been written by overhearing my private conversation with my husband about the process, the season, made to do something.

Shepherd