Saturday, March 1, 2014

Where God Is

Here is a truth: God can be found at the end of our abilities and along the painful edges of our weakness.


There have been two distinct instances in the last several months where I found myself at the end of my rope.  The first such instance involved my kids.  I was slowly recovering from that good ol' "pregnancy sickness" that plagues reproducing women worldwide, and as you can imagine, feeling sick day in and day out gets old. And if you have preschool aged children you know that their capacity for sympathy is about the size of a thimble.  A preschool sized thimble.  On this particular day, my kids and their preschool sized thimbles of empathy were hounding me one after another, seemingly nonstop, with wants, needs, whines, cries, and ridiculously over dramatized arguments with each other.  I was so incredibly frustrated and spent, I shut myself in the pantry, tears burning my eyes, and screamed silently. And it took all my remaining sanity to keep them silent. I wanted to run away, I wanted to hit something, I wanted to send my kids with a one way ticket to grandma's house. Or anywhere. But instead I prayed.   I don't remember the exact words, but it was something like, "God I can't do this. Please help me."

I have rarely experienced instant and dramatic answers to prayer, but literally the next second I was okay.  My frayed nerves had been soothed, and I was just... fine. I didn't feel impatient, I didn't feel angry, and I didn't feel like screaming anymore. It was really a drastic difference in how I had been feeling, but the change was so natural. It's not like angels appeared and gave me a hug or anything, it was like I had never been frustrated in the first place.

The second instance involved work. Still pregnant. I'd been working a 1pm-1am shift in our lovely ER and I was on my 4th and last shift.  The problem with working until 1ish in the morn when you have kids is they still get up at 7. And they still decide to interrupt your sleep at random. My son had sabotaged my sleep the night before, and I was headed into the busiest day of the week and a shift split between a role I like but is stressful and another role that is stressful and I loathe. Think den of angry lions. Angry lions coughing flu viruses in your face.  I was tired. I had no energy. I was completely dreading the next 12 hours. I wanted to crawl into a hole where no one could find me - and take a nap. But instead I prayed.  Something a little bit like the other prayer - "God I can't do this. Please help me."

I drug myself across the street from the parking garage to the ambulance bay of our department. I walked un-enthusiastically through the sliding glass doors. And suddenly... I was fine.  The foggy weight of fatigue lifted. Bounce showed up in my dragging step.  In the next 12 hours I would be stressed and I would be tired, but never too stressed. Never too tired.

These moments stand out to me because I rarely feel completely at the end of my rope.  I get frustrated and I get tired, but rarely to the extent that I think I can't keep going. I've prayed for strength and for help in the past, but these times where I felt completely spent and unable are some of the only times where I had such a day and night experience. My fingers slipped from the frayed edges of my abilities and I didn't fall.

So don't be afraid to come to the end of your abilities. Because if you look for Him - that's where God is.

2 comments:

  1. Beautiful. I am so thankful for God's grace and mercy towards us. Thank you for sharing, dear friend!

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  2. Merrily your writing style is stunning. Such a human portrayal of motherhood and how fragile we all are. I love you!

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