All Poured Out

winter waterfall
photo ~ Liz West


Some days I feel all poured out.

I wake up tired and feeling behind, and can't shake it no matter how hard I try.

Sometimes I don't even try.

I'm not David. I've never killed a man and had to live with remorse, or been pursued by armies and had to hide in caves.

But I still connect on a deep level with this...

I am poured out like water,
And all my bones are out of joint;
My heart is like wax;
It is melted within me. (Psalm 22:14 NASB)

Can I tell you? I want to be strong. Impermeable. I want to be the mother who doesn't waver, who doesn't question herself, who is tireless on her children's behalf.

I want to be the wife who weathers life's storms by her man, strong and true and beautiful.

But I am neither of these things. I am just a girl in a woman's body, trying to be all grown up in a sometimes overwhelming world.

My husband and I have both noted that I can almost be two different people when emergencies strike.

Sometimes I am calm, with laser-like focus. When my children get hurt, I tune all of my energy into them, intent on one thing only - to calm them and make them well.

Other times I am like a vapor, air showing between my ears. I was a vapor when the wildfire hit. I couldn't think of what we needed to take to evacuate. My mind was a complete blank. I was shaking.

Accident & Emergency Sign
photo ~ lydiashiningbrightly


Our recent hospital emergency? I knew pretty quickly that it was going to be serious, and was calm and sure, but once I had delivered my husband to the emergency room, the action was out of my hands. All the problem solving belonged to someone else, and there was nothing more I could do except be a comfort to my husband as he endured the tortures of un-kinking a small intestine.

Somewhere in the three days of jumping at his every twitch and translating his sign language for the nurses, I morphed into a vapor.

When things are out of my control I just seem to leak right out of myself.

How we rejoiced when we learned that he would not need surgery! How we danced when the wretched naso-gastric tube was removed! Shouldn't that have been when life restarted and energy was aplenty?

That was when I realized I was so exhausted my bones ached.

What kind of crazy am I to have a life with so little margin that a three day emergency stay in the hospital sends me into a tailspin when I come home? I feel like I am walking around with a cloud enveloping my head, thoughts muddled, words not coming out right, slightly panicky that I am forgetting something critical. I can't make heads or tails out of what is more urgent... the laundry or the dishes?

Where I am most myself right now is snuggled up on the couch or in bed with a child and a book. That's where I would stay if I could. Holding those small limbs close, smelling the soft hair, immersed in a world of words.

I just can't tie it up all nice and tidy like a beribboned package. There's no neat ending to this post because this is real life. Real life is messy and this worn-out sinner is just muddling through, looking for glimpses of beauty, clinging to her Savior.

For You have been my help,
And in the shadow of Your wings I sing for joy.
My soul clings to You;
Your right hand upholds me. (Psalm 63:7, 8 NASB)

I'm a ruffled little chick peeking out from under the wings of her heavenly Father, trilling a tiny song... "Can't do much but just be yours today, Abba."

photo ~ Patti Brown

Kinda makes me feel snuggled up myself.

I am so grateful for grace. Peep peep.

8 comments:

  1. That was beautiful, Patti! Hang in there, we all need some respite from time to time and there's no better place to be snuggled!

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    Replies
    1. Thank you Ashley, I'm leaning.. leaning... leaning on the everlasting arms today! :-)

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  2. Patti...you read my mind...you came up with words that I could not form to describe me, today, yesterday. Thank you...this gave me comfort.

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    1. We are the two chicks in the picture. :-) In real life those are my daughter's hands... imagine how big God's are?

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  3. Thank you, Patti. I especially appreciate that there is "no neat ending to this post because this is real life." The only thing we can do is cling to our Savior. That is so encouraging!

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    1. Cling to our Savior, who often loves us through dear dear friends like you. Thank you for being His servant and loving this little chick! You are such a blessing, Sandy!

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  4. Thank you for this honest post Patti. I have felt this lately as have several of my friends. The joy to know that we can be the chick resting in the shadow of His wings. Grateful for your honesty

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  5. Patti
    Thank you for sharing this. Our family had a recent trauma and I felt the same way you described! Shouldn't I feel so overjoyed this is over? My answer is a resounding yes, but I still don't feel it. I am exhausted from the whole thing. I know I am in the hands of my wonderful Savior, and for that I am thankful. I am praying He will provide a much needed miracle.

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