Life is busy right now.
And I know that everyone is busy—which is why we have microwave ovens and alarm clocks and maybe some deodorant stashed in the glove box. It is why the bulk of my cardio occurs in the walk from here to the bathroom and why reading in bed turns into sleeping with a book-blanket.
Two days after I got back from Hashtag Ya’ll Ready for This, I started a new job. It’s the sort of job where I sit at a desk and occasionally wear high heels. There is a water cooler in the kitchen, and sometimes business-clad professionals congregate around it to chat about things like Fantasy Football and sequestration. Monday through Friday, I feel as though I’ve arrived at adulthood. It’s weird.
Today when I arrived at adult-headquarters (what some call “work”), I went through my morning self-talk:
“I’m so tired.”
“It’s Wednesday, right? I better double check.”
“Where are my keys?”
This morning when I made my way to the office bathroom, I realized that even though I had pulled out makeup to apply at home, somehow the makeup never made it to my face. I have no idea what transpired instead during those ten minutes at home in the bathroom. Did I doze off in front of the mirror?
Sometimes tiredness makes me want to make ultimatums and rash decisions and to instigate conversations about boundaries that I really should have, boundaries that create more sleep-time, and me-time, and perhaps a checks-and-balances system to ensure that makeup makes it to my face and keys make it to my purse.
There is this small voice that comes out when I’m tired. And it says that I am a victim of my own schedule (lie ), that fatigue is an irresponsible tragedy (lie ), and that I really should say “no” more often so I have time for more bubble baths and magazine subscriptions (what? ).
That small voice is an entitled son-of-a-gun.
Don’t get me wrong- I’m not saying that rest is unnecessary or that we don’t need to carve out time for it. We do. Even the never-weary God took a break after the 6th day, if only to illustrate to creation that rest was built-in by design.
But it seems that I’ve spent most of my life complaining of either restlessness or exhaustion, and it’s time I just settle into today’s pace and recognize that it is a good one.
Even though there are times of intermittent rest, the reality is that most of our lives are spent in seasons of output, seasons where we wake up tired and go to bed tired, where we are behind on a million things and have to creatively adjust to a lack of clean laundry. This isn’t always an imbalance. A life is still full even if we feel human in the midst of it.
What if a full life is a tired life and we’re just too distracted to see it because we’re too busy looking for a Starbucks?
Last night, in the few moments before my book turned into a blanket, I read these words from the brilliant Ann Voskamp:
Eucharisteo (Greek for “to be thankful”) has taught me to trust that there is always enough God… Spend the whole of your one wild and beautiful life investing in many lives, and God simply will not be outdone. God extravagantly pays back everything we give away and exactly in the currency that is not of this world but the one we yearn for: Joy in him.
This day is charged full of joy in front of us, around us, and in us. Who knows? It might even be stashed in the glove compartment. God is sneaky with joy. He puts it everywhere.
And if the joy of the Lord is our strength and it cannot run dry, then I don’t have to worry about my energy reserves. He will provide enough energy for tomorrow when tomorrow gets here, but for today, He has already provided exactly what I need.
It’s right in front of me.
So if you’re reading this today and you’re tired, I just want you to know that it’s okay. It’s normal. Sometimes a joyful life still sends you to bed at 8pm. And sometimes tiredness is the very symptom of a life well spent.
Maybe that’s why God created a daytime for us to labor and a nighttime for us to rest. Because He knew we would get worn out. Every. Single. Day.