The depth of been tired

Taking a page from his book... 

The past week or so have been full on. A sense of connection to the homeless as I drifted from my room to the prayer room, then lower coach as it was a sauna up there. Close to heaven is hot holy business so I tell the girls!! 

In truth apart from the heat I slept well, the days were full of gathering, information giving, challenging thoughts, concepts and a rather re-energising towards religious life. 

Yet a sense of tiredness is present. 

You see, I’m the type of person who feels deeply others pain, feelings, sadness, joy, hope. I can’t remember where I read it, yet putting myself in a box here; it said that my personality type meant that I connected to others feelings in away of taking them on. Its a rare personality type, yet that is me! A unique rare treasure hehehe. 

I say all this, as sometimes its easy to let my fingers type away in positive ways, even in my text messages that lately leaves me with the sense of doing ministry to those who I journey with in this way. 

The thing is, I tell those I love that its okay to hurt, I know the balm for the scars we carry, the antidote to utter despair, the flicker of light when your feet stumble and bruise in the dark night. Because I tell you He is big enough for us where our doubts lay and our worries land.

The thing is, I want to extend that invitation, give it in a language that connects to all. To meet Him, know Him, more, see Him in the light as I do, I want to share my Jesus with you all.

And I want words to soothe the ache. I want to point you back to Grace, scavenging hope and beauty to line your pockets on the journey.
The other day I was reflecting and we NEED to get our hands more dirty. Stop the continue washing, the continue dusting off… We have forgotten how good digging for treasure is. Our hands should never be clean because to find beauty we so often have to get on our hands and knees, break open the hard soil, clawing it back to the place where things grow. Where hope is planted. It is always dark and broken and so deep down you cannot imagine anything would survive. 

I also leave with a sense of questioning - How can we know life until we’ve identified with death? Hasn’t this always been the way we are connected in ways that are not our own with Christ? This is where it cracks wide and unfurls and flourishes up into the light, budding into the kind of fruit that stains your cheek with nectar and gushes like sweet wine. 

I want everyone to know you are not alone. 

These are my hopes when I think of my friends who carry a cross that is heavy, whose distance makes it hard to physically reach out and embrace. Sometimes I wish to nourish those seeds, that light that is dim yet is still there!

Say…. You are strong, you are brave, you are loved! Roll these around in your mind until it is worn smooth and you can almost make it fit. I’d like to take that nugget and tuck it into the palm of your hand, give it to you to carry around as artillery to sling against those giants who come to still voices and keep souls quiet. The giants who bellow; Your mess is too much for anyone to bear. The beasts of the land who whisper: You are irreparably broken and tedious. These giants and beasts hiss that God could not love you because you carry the scars of the chronically wounded. 

Sometimes been tired reminds me of the cross we all carry, when the weight, the burdens are too heavy that we have to admit we can not carry it alone. How often so many of us lift it up to test its weight and see if we can continue in our own strength. Truth so often we are crushed beneath it. 

The truth is so many of us are tired. We just don’t realise that the solution is not to sleep for hours, rather to open our hands, let the cross fall on the shoulders of those around us to carry together. 

Every hour to cry out “ I need Thee” As we open ourselves up to be filled by the most beautiful presence of God when we are tired. It feels like nourishment. It feels like amazing grace. 

Even when we break, He is good. 

Even when our worlds crumble, He is good. 

Even when we cannot see, He is good. 

Even when there are days that feel like the cruelest of jokes and hardships pile up at our heels, He is good. 

Sometimes faith feels like more uncertainty than you’ve ever faced and you’re pushed forward and asked to trust yourself to be loved by God, fully and completed and just as you are. Right here in the storm. 

And sometimes in the midst of it all, you find something blossoming. Hope unfurled and growing wild.