Last night I stepped outside and faced the wind. It had been another long day of work followed by weeding in the garden, helping with the goats and working outside until dusk. Night was falling when I finally stepped out on the porch to enjoy just a few minutes of quiet before heading to bed. The recent rains have been a welcome relief from the long drought and the damp air was cool against my face. It carried the heavy scent of rain and I breathed deeply, but as I stood there in the growing darkness, I found myself struggling to maintain my composure. Physical exhaustion had dampened my spirits and threatened to overwhelm me.
This morning I awoke long before dawn to start another long work day. I look in the mirror and speculate as to whether droopy eyelids and new wrinkles are from fatigue or if they have become permanent fissures on my face. I wonder if too many short nights have aged me beyond my years. Long days and short nights have left me exhausted and I ask myself what my long hours have accomplished. I look at the calendar… June 22…it has been more than three weeks since I last wrote a blog post and two months since I penned an article. Where has the month gone?
I have battled the extreme weather of the Texas Panhandle to get my garden planted and growing; there have been flower beds to weed, chicks to raise, goats to tend, a large yard to water and mow, and countless other chores to squeeze in and around long work days. In addition to the usual chores of summer, I also managed to fit in a four day trip to Colorado with my young adult kids. The trip was lots of fun but not at all restful as we tried to cram as much as possible into a short trip. I got home at 11:30 pm and in bed just before 1:00 am on Sunday night to catch a few hours of sleep before plunging into a long six day work week.
Now the week is drawing to a close and I am tired and frustrated because I have not had the opportunity to capture my jumbled thoughts and sort them out as I write them down. I am thankful for my job and I remind myself over and over how blessed I am to have the opportunity as a substitute carrier to work as much as I do. I am grateful for the opportunity to earn the income I need to maintain my household, but this week I found myself bemoaning the fact that I have to work and blaming my long work hours for preventing me from writing.
While I was driving and complaining to myself, a question formed in my mind almost as though someone asked me audibly, “Why do you write?” and the answer came almost as quickly as the question, “It is a form of worship.” Of course writing is many other things as well; it is a way to sort through thoughts and feelings and a way to record and process life events and the daily issues that we all face; but it is also a way in which I express my gratitude for the people, things, and events in my life and the abundant grace that I have been given. My life would be for naught were it not for my Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, and He works all things in my life for my good and His glory – and I simply must tell of His wonderful goodness and grace.
Yes, it would be much easier to write if I did not have to work, but I must ask myself if I would- if I do – only worship Him when it is easy. Perhaps sometimes we just have to pull up our boot straps and carry on despite distractions and fatigue. Our bodies do need rest but as age and time begin to leave their marks on my life, I remember that this place and this body are only temporary and I have only one life to live in service to my Lord. And so despite long days and short nights, I write to give Him glory. I praise Him even when life seems hard and I worship even when I’m weary.