So, apparently I've been MIA for the past month. My last post was 11/17 and here it is 3 days before Christmas! Maybe none of y'all check in with my blog very often and haven't even noticed...but since writing is fun for me, I'VE definitely noticed.
To be truthful, MIA doesn't quite describe my absense. I've been missing, but more out of Pure Exhaustion, rather than "IN ACTION." Missing Out of Pure Exhaustion. That's it! M.O.P.E. Ew! I don't like that word. I like that Missing Out of Pure Exhaustion has an acronym that spells something, but MOPE? That's like... convicting! What else could the letters M-O-P-E spell out that might describe my month?
Mother of Preschoolers Extinct.
Mom Outside Perfect Expectations.
I'll tell you what -- I am so blasted tired. And can I just confess that I have been struggling? I am, above all, so blessed by my babes and husband and can hardly wait to kiss these newest little tootsies (can't I just skip to 30 weeks??), but I've just felt sad, frustrated, failing. I rejoice that my nausea is because of the new life growing within me, rather than say chemotherapy causing death to cancer cells and making me sick. I have to keep things in perspective.
But I've been sad. I love this time of year, normally I'm not sad at all in December. This is the time of year when we're all focused on Christ's birthday (whether the consumers or retailers acknowledge it or not).
I love my Savior. I love that He was born weak, helpless & dependent (exactly how I've been feeling lately). He was born to a clueless young mama no less (I can relate to her, too). So, where's my JOY?
This is, after all, the Season for The Reason.
You know, every season of my heart & life should be so centrifugally aligned so that The Reason can minister no matter the state of my emotions or physical strength. My itty-bitty turning point was 10 days ago when I revealed to my husband and a few friends that I was feeling like I was really falling apart. That I don't "Have it Together."
Do you EVER feel that way? Like you are so protective of "self" that you can't let others know that you're not rocketing off the "Christmas Spirit" charts? That your halls are not beautifully decked? That you can barely crawl out of bed, let alone climb into the recipe box to make my annual Peanut Butter balls? (Christmas Spirit is definitely low, extremely low, if one cannot muster up the energy to indulge in PB & chocolate!)
So, I reached up out of my pit and threw out an S.O.S. for my M.O.P.E. "Please pray for me... this is my heart right now..." And overnight, starting late that night, even as my crocodile tears soaked thru my slate blue pillowcase (which DESPERATELY needs laundered along with its coordinating friends), the healing began.
"Confess your sins to one another, and pray for one another, that you may be healed. The effective, fervent prayer of a righteous man avails much." James 5:16
Thank you for not judging me, Friend.
Thank you for your comfort, Sister.
Thank You that Your arms are never too short to pull me out of my pit, Lord.
You are the Reason. You'll be the song that I sing this season & forever.