Weary

There is a tiredness the comes from doing well. You get to the end of the task or season, pause, and realize that you have been investing at an extraordinary rate. You feel the cost, and at the same time you feel the triumph of having been on purpose, on task.

There is a tiredness that comes from doing. You get to the end of the task or season, pause, and realize that you have been investing out of fear and pride. You become aware that your muscles are aquiver with fatigue because you always had to keep them tensed in anticipation of an attack you knew you were too weak or slow to ward off. You examine your breathing and know that you have been taking little sips in fear that the next time you try, there won't be any air. Your eyes are dry because you have not dared close them in fear of what you are sure is coming.

Pride has told you that you can take care of your self. Or that your self can take care of you. You tried it, utterly failed, and met the fear that would own you. The flavor of everyones fear is different, but the fundamentals are the same. You are the subject of that fear until you get rescued. And you have already learned that you are not able to rescue your self.

Time to open your hands. Time to unclench your toes. Time to close your eyes and leave them closed. Time to unhitch your diaphragm, and let your breath flow in and out of you.

Time to be willing to be rescued. Time to ask for supernatural help. Time to live listening with all the spirit you have alive in you, and refusing to act on your own foolish counsel. Time to ask to be covered with Love and granted the restoring rest and restoration that is yours.

Thank you for your faithful promises, Father.