Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up. Galations 6:9
But I am so tired.
Let us not become weary.
Weary at 1am and my two year old is crying at bedside from another bad dream. Weary at 5pm when dad isn’t home and the babes are cranky and I have been sick for five solid days. Weary when dinner is burned, plans are cancelled, and good isn’t so fun. Weary when I look around and wonder where the weeks are going, why the time seems to be both flying by and slowing down? Weary when water leaks through the ceiling from another steamed up bathroom and a coughing baby. Weary when another tantrum is thrown, another time out has gone wrong, and you have said share for the millionth time. Weary when you look around and wonder, what does this all amount to? Weary of being unseen, unappreciated, and undone.
In doing good.
Oh this good, this good that so many dream of. The good that fills my walls and my halls and my carpets with a thin layer of graham cracker crust. This good that seems so mundane and yet so weighty. This good that makes my heart burst and my head spin. This good who puts its chubby hands on my face and says “I love you more.” This good that calls me to lay it all down. This good that is begging me to take the time to make the minutes matter. The good of putting another one first. Of being last. Of speaking less. Of loving more. The good of being weary and yet so full. The good of choosing others over myself. It is not easy. It isn’t fun and its rarely pretty but it is good.
For at the proper time we will reap a harvest
The harvest of seeing fruit. Of watching my baby apologize and mean it when she hurts someone else. The time of smiles and joy unimaginable. The time when my work when my load will look different but possibly never easier. A time when I will see my kids grown and settled. A time not even guaranteed. A time when I will see them trust Jesus instead of me. A time when we will pray earnest prayers and ask hard questions. The harvest is coming and the only thing I can do is sow seeds along the way. A time is coming when I will miss the weary and long for the days when the nightmares weren’t real and I could still protect them.
If we do not give up.
How I want to give up. How I want to resign myself to throw in the towel and let the days take me over. How I want to forget that most every moment is meaningful and fleeting. How I want to escape in movies and numb out to the boring. I want to give up. I want to be mediocre and be ok with that. But the harvest is coming so I will not give up. I will find joy in the days that feel unending knowing that God gives rest to the weary and strength to the broken. Knowing God is merciful and gracious and kind and I will not grow weary in doing good. I will not give up this time or wish away these days, I will not let the lies win over truth. I was not made for better I was made for this, I was made to love well.