souldare

“Come to me, all you that are weary and are carrying heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28 NRSV)

I say, “I am weary.” And you reply, “I AM REST.”

Advent marks a time of year, when I pay attention to each day. I count the moments leading up to the feast of Christmas. It’s a time of preparation. Yet apathy wrestles with my expectations and cynical thoughts crowd in to taunt me. Jeering at me, “Who do you think you are? How can you get it all done? Why bother? Why do you even make these promises to write daily? What good is a budget, when you go crazy with spending despite the plan?”

I’m not posting here daily. I am over budget, but the budget did help me make creative decisions regarding my gift giving this year. And even if, I don’t “get it all done,” I will have enjoyed the moments preparing. And I bother, because giving and writing are two ways that I express myself and my love for others.

It is helpful for me to remember that who am I and what I do are not the same. I am loved, limited and creative. I do go overboard at Christmas, because I love the season and giving to others and creating memories. I do declare intentions that are impossible to meet, but I think of them more as ideas to consider. Then, I have a choice of how much I will do or not do each year.

So, today, I am posting because I think sometimes it’s easy to hide our weariness, and I wanted to give voice to that reality of the season. Sometimes the plain old wearing down of our lives from the daily burden of interacting, intending and hoping for more is easier to deny than face.

I was reading the Lord’s prayer with fresh eyes this morning. The familiar line, “Give us this day our daily bread,” had a footnote that I never noticed before. Another way to translate this familiar request is: “Give us this day our bread for tomorrow.” What?

I had also just read to not worry about tomorrow. (Matthew 6:34) However, as I sat with the phrase “Give us this day our bread for tomorrow,” I felt reassured. I don’t need to worry about tomorrow, because I have already asked for tomorrow’s portion. And it is promised to me.

I am weary. I am hungry. I do worry, but this day, give me bread for tomorrow. And each day I  do have enough “bread” to stave off the worry and the hunger. I am enough, and I have enough.

I can make it my intention to blog daily, because words will come tomorrow. The question is not whether or not I’ll have something to offer, but will I take the time. And sometimes, I won’t because I use the time in other efforts. I am freed from self-imposed obligation. And when I do write, I am happy. And when I don’t have time, that’s okay, too.

I often write in my journal, and this morning words were flowing. Here’s a poetic pondering that came to me this morning, after a restless night of waking and sleeping every hour or so.

I am awake
asking
who am I?
who do you say that I am?
Jesus asked that, too.

I am not asleep
answering
I am weary
I am tired
I am exhausted
Jesus says: Come to me, I AM REST. (KSR)

ADVENT{ure} PROMPT#9

How are you feeling at this half-way point to Christmas? Consider this quote from my sister, Gillian McCullough:

“GOD is not limited by our expectations.”

I invite you to pick up a pen and a piece of paper and respond,

I feel . . .

I don’t feel . . .