Where were you one year ago?
I was 3 months pregnant and suffering through some awful all-day-long sickness. It was so bad that even water repulsed me. Water.
A lot has changed in the past year. I can enjoy water again. We have our 4th child, a healthy little boy, who I affectionately call Mister Mister. And we have completely changed our state, community, church, and house. In fact, most of these changes happened in the last 4 months.
Now I wish I was one of those bloggers who chronicle through life’s transitions. A blogger who is organized and sane enough to jot down some witty insights in the midst of the muck. But I’m not. Truth is I’ve barely kept my head above water. By all appearances life should be good. Mister Mister is a healthy easy baby, our new community is bursting with opportunities to connect, our church is eager and vibrant, and our house is a country escape.
Yet I can’t shake this overwhelmed feeling.
I’m overwhelmed by the same old worry. Some days it’s worry on steroids. Every which way I look I see something to worry about. The beautiful tree in the front yard? A broken bone trap. The light fixture that doesn’t work in the basement? A house fire waiting to happen. DH taking the kids to a new park? A fatal accident on the side of a twisty country road. Big Sister not enjoying homeschooling? A forever strained mother daughter relationship – and a failed attempt to home school.
Worry is directing my thoughts like a puppeteer controls their marionette. And I feel overwhelmed.
It doesn’t take much for some of us to get overwhelmed. There are usually plenty of legit reasons. Sleep deprivation. Transition. Stress. Guilt. Hormones. Shoot, I’m even overwhelmed by all of the excuses for my worry!
But there are moments when I hear God call me to His Word.
Seek me and I will give you rest.
Sometimes I take Him up on the offer. I cuddle up in the quiet of my bedroom and go to the wellspring of life. And He does not disappoint with His promise of peace. Psalm 94 rang through my overwhelmed feelings the other night.
v. 18 – 19 When I said, “My foot is slipping,” your love, O LORD, supported me. When anxiety was great within me, your consolation brought joy to my soul.
v. 22 But the LORD has become my fortress, and my God the rock in whom I take refuge.
In that instant I was no longer overwhelmed by anxiety and fear. I was overwhelmed by the essence of God. Our God as described in Psalm 94, sees all, makes all, knows all, will never forsake His people and is our rock and fortress. This same God invites us not to be overwhelmed by the circumstances of our lives, but by Him and who He is.
Day by day I’m battling against this overwhelmed feeling. I’m rediscovering my sharpest weapon: the sword of God’s word. This sword is the only thing that cuts the puppet strings. And it is overwhelming to sit freely at the feet of our great God.
What overwhelms you?