I was curled in a fetal position on my bed crying without tears out of exhaustion – on the brink of burnout. I lay there thinking of all the ways I knew to refresh my soul; rest in his presence, pull up his word. Worship music blared from the kitchen as I thought of the blog post I had but a few hours before pushed out. Rooted in his love. The problem was I didn’t feel unloving I felt spent.
Needed. Emptied. And the day didn’t allow for rest of the body and soul. My day before me was packed with people, phone calls, emails, dishes, conference prep, writing, children and laundry. I needed a supernatural word. Someone To come into my distressed state and speak truth, strength and comfort. Reassurance. I looked at my phone ever in my hand and the thought flew through my mind. I wish I could get a text from God.
I know, it’s not spiritual. And in a Christian culture where the current trend is to unglue electronics from our hands I was aching for a quick word from the only one who could ease my exhaustion and carry my burdens. A flash of tangible words across a screen. A confirmation that I wasn’t spending myself for nothing.
God didn’t text me that day but his sweet Spirit filled the space where nothingness had been and I knew once again that I am not alone. That the work wasn’t mine to do and the power to do it wasn’t mine either. Now the tears did come one after the other rolling down my nose into the coffee stain on my well worn sweatshirt. The one who had called me into this hard adventure of faith was not only going to bring me through it he would sustain me in it .
In the moments when I think I can’t make it and I curl up at his feet, empty of myself, very aware of my inability that is when his voice shoots into my heart. A notification that he hasn’t forgotten me. A text message of love from my Savior, Redeemer and Friend.