Lately, our life resembles a lot more of a carousel than an open field of green grass. People hopping on and off, putting in their time and asking for a better turn, more excitement, less noise, and we open our hands and say, “Look, we have nothing left.”
I am finding more and more relief in admitting that sometimes, I have nothing left to give. Not because I’m done, or burned out, but because I’m simply dried up, and I just need some quiet. Not because I don’t like you, or don’t want to spend time with you, or don’t have anything to give to you . . . but because I need some time to process all that’s happening around me, and without processing, let’s be honest–I’m going to fake my way through these conversations. And if there is one thing my soul gets the most angry about, it’s when I’m being fake.
So today I am breathing, asking God to fill me back up with peace, love, grace, understanding, and patience. . . in place of judgment, annoyance, tiredness, emptiness, and fear. And although I know the green grass is a long way off–I’m looking at it, from this carousel, knowing that in small moments I can hop off, soak in the air, and then hop back on.