(Ah, friends. Welcome. It’s still January, I have 7 more days of teaching to go. My husband has manned five pediatric sick appointments in the last two weeks and today we return together with our oldest son who’s illness doesn’t appear to be responding to antibiotics. So here I am, again, sharing something old, but entirely relevant to the now. May we each find rest when and where we can.)
Come unto me, all you who are weary and heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.” – God
I came into the retreat like our old cat Samson used to come into our house after a string of nights out on the town. Samson would disappear and refuse to show up for nights on end as we leaned out the screen door, peering and calling his name into the darkness. A few days later, he would come dragging in, thin and dirty, walking slowly with a limp.
That’s how I felt that morning – I arrived completely exhausted. Life with four young children is like drinking from a fire hose, all struggle and gasping and refreshment to the point of drowning. The discipline of a monthly retreat has revealed the intensity of life lived between those moments of rest and I often arrive haggard, gasping for breath.
The day opened with an opportunity for each participant to write on a scrap of paper three words that described how they arrived. Then a large ceramic bowl was passed from hand to hand around the gathered circle as we named our words and laid our papers into the bowl.
It felt to me that others had much nicer words, like “rested,” “eager,” and “waiting.” But as I lifted the heavy bowl and dropped in my small scraps of paper three words escaped my lips like a cry,
worn,
weary,
and threadbare.
I passed the bowl quickly and sat quietly.
I listened and prayed throughout the morning as the tears rolled down.
Later, I found a sunlit window and sat curled in a chair soaking it in. I ate a quiet lunch that settled in me like a bowl of warm milk, full of soothing comfort. Then I returned to the retreat house and stretched out on a long cushioned bench. I wrote a little, read a little too, but eventually I gave in and, leaning to the side, I curled up there in the lap of God and drifted my way off to sleep.
* * *
Welcome to the #SmallWonder link-up.
What if we chose to deliberately look for the small moments of wonder, the small sparks of presence, of delight or sorrow, of true humanity in which we meet God?
That’s my proposal – that we gather here each week to share one moment of Wonder from each of our days.
You’re invited to link-up a brief post about a small moment of wonder. Don’t worry if your post is too long, too short, or not just right – you’re welcome to come as you are.
While you’re here, please do take a look around and encourage at least one other blogger with a comment.
Kelly, I also arrive at this morning worn, weary, and threadbare. How I understand your feelings!! Planning on spending some time in God's lap, too! There is comfort and peace there, and I need it so today…
GOD BLESS!
(Because I'm overtired, I hit the wrong photo to add to my link. Grrr. Could you please remove my link – "Winter Roadblock" – and I will re-add the correct link and photo as soon as you can do that. Thank you so much! It's one of "those" days!!)
Got it, Sharon. Hoping you found some rest today!
Thank you, Kelly. I did have a much better day, in all respects. I hope the Lord is bringing His rest to your recent troubles and travails, too.
Hey Kelly,
As a daddy to three girls, with our fourth on the way, I know the feeling well. I prayed for you and your family this morning, and am hoping that a refreshing and relaxing week is headed your way.
Thank you for the opportunity to connect and share in the link-up too.
Thanks, Jed. And thanks for being here.
I'm so sorry that illness continues to plague your family. I know it's not helpful to hear, but this season will too pass. There is light at the end of the tunnel when good health will be the norm instead of ill health. Keep enduring til the light breaks through. Praying for you and yours, Kelly!
Yes, we've been through winters like this before and it WILL pass, but when you're in it, it kinda stretches you like taffy. Thanks, Lisa!
beautiful, I love watching my cat curled up in a ball, sometimes I want to be a cat.. your beautiful words capture the essence of a mother's exhaustion and the need to put our heads on God's lap..gorgeous!
Thanks, Kathy. I think, sometimes, I am part cat. I definitely love resting in a sunny window . . . 🙂
So sorry your family has all been sick. Praying for you all to be fully restored!
Thanks Joanne.
Oh, it's a long slogging when everyone is sick at once – or in sequence. Thank you for persevering in this space – and may you all be well and rested soon.
Yes, I can't decide whether all at once is worse or in sequence. Thanks for being here.
I lift you and your family in prayer and know He is healing, watching, and caring about each and every one of you. The retreat sounds so wonderful right now!
Yes, monthly retreat is such an incredible gift.
"…eventually I gave in and, leaning to the side, I curled up there in the lap of God and drifted my way off to sleep." Sometimes that's the best thing we can do when we are so weary and worn. Blessings to you, Kelly!
I was just thinking this week about how easily we forget that sabbath (rest) is holy – an essential form of worship.