A Tiredness that Keeps Returning

We are in the biggest struggle of our lives. Always. Image-bearers of the Creator on the one hand with the capacity to love as God has loved, to be present with each other, to be present to each other how He has done with us, to forgive, to endure, to seek understanding. On the other hand, we are continually fighting our humanity. We are fighting our breaking bodies, diseases we can’t pronounce, so scared we play games when driving by cemeteries to distract ourselves from the reality that we too will be in one some day. 

There is a tiredness I notice that returns for me no matter how much effort or energy I build within myself. I know it’s the human part of me, and that at least in this body, on this earth, with just the promise my current breath, this tiredness will never really leave me.

No matter how hard I fight the tiredness, it returns. It’s simple cause and effect. I work, I spend energy, I need more to replenish it. But I always spend a little more than what I can replace.

I notice it particularly when I’m at the end of my day, when the activities, the cubs, the schedule and the deadlines have all fizzled out. I notice how heavy my eyelids sit against my face. I see my own fingers tremble across the keys, flushes and chills running up and down my arms simultaneously. I realize how hard I’ve been trying then.

Trying to get work done.

Trying to have fun.

Trying to teach the kids something.

Trying to guess what’s next in a movie.

Trying to share my thoughts on a book.

Trying to decide who to call.

Who to respond to.

Who to reach out to.

The list goes on.

When the whole day is laid out before me and I can pan through it, I realize just how much happened, how much time was enjoyed, how much time was “killed,” and how much time was well-spent. Usually in that end-day-think-through of a moment I sigh and the tiredness that keeps returning joins me again.

I look back at these moments after the fact and re-see them and myself in them. I grab the lessons I can and move forward. I find the redeeming moment within the moments.

I don’t want to obsess with the what-could-I-have-done-better thoughts and instead focus on the-where-next-He-is-leading-me ones. I might feel weighed down by my human tiredness, that ceaseless companion, but at the same time I am looking to the Author and Perfecter of all things, craving what I cannot possibly experience in my broken humanity–release from the tiredness–but looking forward to being fully perfected one day.

Without a blink or shadow of the tired.

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