We Are All Just Tired
Y’all. This one goes and goes and goes until he just crashes. Well, that and two melatonin gummies. That’s basically how I feel right now. Just give me a couple gummies to help shut off my mind and let me fall asleep wherever I am.
This is the most cluttered room we have in the house. While I spend energy in other rooms of the house to declutter and organize, I mostly can’t even with this room. This is my dirty little secret, just like Monica’s closet.* I consider where to start to clean up in here and I immediately just want to lay down where I am until the feeling goes away.
And just so you know exactly how we roll around here, that is dear hubs working late on worship. Using the keyboard of one laptop hooked up to a monitor because that laptop monitor is sketchy at best, but we’re gonna keep using it until it smokes.
I‘ve been on something of a binge about cleaning lately. At some point last year, I got on a huge decluttering kick. It was relatively successful (the room pictured is an obvious outlier) and I’ve got plenty of stuff for a garage sale if I could ever just pull the very large, complicated, too-much-work trigger on it. This year, my annual kick** seems to be more about cleaning. Deep cleaning. Like, use the crevice tool attachment and really go to town in the corners cleaning. It doesn’t take too much to figure out what it’s about. There is so very little that any of us can control right now. And so very much that is constantly a question mark. And there is so. much. grief. Grief over loss, over change, over uncertainty. Throw in some malaise at what feels pretty bleak and sprinkle in some anxiety about what might actually come out of all of this and you have yourself a nice little cocktail of kaka.
Which, apparently for me, means I am super tired all the time and also cleaning out the crevices. If this is all going up in a blaze, there will at least be no cobwebs or grit. I will not have it.
There are others who have written much more eloquently than me, prophetically even, about all this. I lean into their wisdom in these days. I lean into the kind words and shared griefs of my husband, friends and colleagues. And, in my better moments, in the quiet, I remember that my soul will not rest until it rests with the Lord.*** That’s not morbid thinking. It’s a promise that when we are with the Lord, when we recognize that the Lord is with us and for each and every one of us, then we will find rest. Even in the midst of the chaos and uncertainty. In the depths of our sorrows and griefs and fears, there the Lord is with us. Last week was a hard one. A wise friend of mine gave me permission to take some extra time this week to tend to my broken and weary heart. To rest and reset, because we don’t yet know what this week holds. And, what if this week turns out to be even heavier? I offer that to you as well. Where, when and how can you carve out time this week to tend to your own heart, to rest and remember whose you are?
I need to go, of course. There’s laundry on the line, but it’ll be okay out there til later.
*Friends, season 8, episode 14, “The One With the Secret Closet”
**Is this a thing? Do people have an annual focus? It feels unforced, so that’s nice, but cleaning??
***St. Augustine’s Confessions