I left the exam room once her eyes closed, futilely concealing sobs causing awkward glances. My husband, eyes spilling over with tears, stayed until the end.
She was 16 and her body was slowly relinquishing its life, yet devotion still radiated from her soft, brown eyes. We went back and forth, emotions raw all week. But in the end, our compassionate vet helped us see her life as a happy member of our family had run its course. It was time.
With each “first,” tears threaten.
- The double-take at her kennel’s old spot.
- My first morning walk alone.
- The first return home to an empty patio.
It feels more like a hushed echo chamber than a home. I long for laughter to return.
Can anyone else say with me, “If one more thing happens!?…” It’s been a tumultuous year for all of us; I’m feeling depleted of emotional reserves.
The world seems solemn and on edge, and I’m stuck waiting in line for the vaccine against despair.
Is it just me? Do I not have what it takes to get through this Pandemic-al, divided and outraged culture with grace and grit? Maybe it’s just the week I’ve had, or maybe I’m suffering from a weary heart.
Fragile, bone-tired, uncomfortably numb.
Thick with fatigue, fragility stalks me, threatening dark clouds and downpours.
But just when I feel I can’t take one more moment on this uncertain, evil-bent planet, God’s mercies reacquaint my weary heart with wonder and hope.
He is faithful—so faithful.
Weariness abates where beauty abounds.
But this doesn’t just happen. It takes intention—searching for His fingerprints still fresh upon the earth.
I doubled down in my efforts to stay focused on His beauty and goodness. With help, I’ve unearthed a few strategies to fight fatigue and fragility, fortifying my weary heart.
When you’ve been in the pit like I have, crawling out one handful of dirt at a time, the lessons learned there become lifelines keeping me from tumbling back in.
Our relationships, time spent, occupations—these significantly influence our heart and destiny, but most consequential of all—our thoughts.
Perspective—it drives our thoughts, actions or inactions, and beliefs. Our thoughts shape who we become, what we do and how we live.
The old glass half full / half empty question is legitimate. The power of my heart to influence my mind is immense.
It takes focus and fortitude because I’m still new at it. But when I fixate on God and His truth, I can endure these heart-weary seasons.
“You don’t go to God because He’s useful, you go because He’s beautiful. And nothing is more useful than finding God beautiful.” Tim Keller
This week, God blessed me with His beauty and goodness.
- The half-moon winking through the morning-lit trees.
- One last week with our ‘ole girl.
- A phone call with my daughter on a morning walk.
- A devotion meeting me smack dab in the midst of my pain.
The key to experiencing these moments of wonder? Staying present—mindful—focused on what’s around me, not lost in my thoughts.
Distraction, wonder’s arch-enemy, threatens to steal these encouraging moments designed by God. But if I’m intentional, I can sense Him.
“Come, daughter. Commune with Me.
Discover my unparalleled love in My Word.
Observe the morning sky I painted for you.
Listen to the love song I composed for you chirping overhead.
Get lost in worship in the warmth of the sun’s rays.
Nestle in the strong, safe hug from the man I made for you.”
Are there still tears? Does my heart still ache? Yes!
But if I stay focused on His beauty, I can endure.
“Whatever is good and perfect comes down to us from God our Father, who created all the lights in the heavens…” James 1:17a.
Friend, how is Jesus romancing your weary heart? I can promise He is; we just have to open our minds to see it.
This week, stay present—mindful—searching for at least 3 ways daily, and write them down.
It takes practice, but your mind will be transformed, your heart warmed and wonder rekindled!
“…He will give a crown of beauty for ashes, a joyous blessing instead of mourning, festive praise instead of despair.” Isiah 61:3a.
