Burnt Out

Tired.  Burnt out.  Exhausted. Drained.  This is exactly how I feel right now.  So much has happened over the past few weeks, and the past few days especially, that I feel I've hardly had time to breathe.  Mom got married last Friday.  Zach left for Marine boot camp Sunday evening.  I'm busy working long days as a nanny for a family with seven kids.  Actually, as of Monday, make that eight kids.  On top of these things, I still haven't fully unpacked and organized from college.  I have boxes of things from Papua New Guinea I've been meaning to go through but haven't gotten to yet.  All the necessary details for graduating from Hillsdale this Fall still need to be worked out.  I haven't researched grad schools.  The laundry in my room is accumulating into a small mountain.  My room likes like a small  bomb went off.  Or a very large one, depending on your level of "tidy tolerance".      


Routine is currently non-existant in my life, and I hate it.  I find I thrive under stricter schedules, for the demands of a heavy and rigid schedule require that I be dedicated and maintain a higher level of self-discipline.  This goes for all areas--my private worship, eating, working out, cleaning, relationships, etc.  And although my schedule is currently jam-packed, there is no rhyme or reason to it.  Each day is different, and I feel as though I'm barely able to keep my head above water.  I'm going through the motions of the day-to-day tasks I once loved, but I find that my heart does not respond the way it once did.  I hate how sharp my words have become, and how dull, proud, and at times, downright mean I can be towards others.  Everything feels lifeless.  I feel lifeless.

In my self-despair, I abhor my body of death, and I seek for ways to cure my corrupt and wandering heart.  But with everything I turn towards to fill me, I am left with only more emptiness and longing and despair.  What am I looking for?  Why is it not being satisfied?  And then I remember:  I have not opened up God's Word recently.  I believe Jesus Christ meant what He said we are to seek the secret place and close the door.  And this is what I have failed to do: I have failed to take time to be alone with God, to love Him, to plead with Him, to worship Him, to wrestle with Him, to rest in Him.  


I don't want to crawl through life cursing the darkness when Christ is standing right before me, shining brightly!  In my pride, it's easy to look back over my past failings (this week especially) and become overwhelmed by regret and frustration at my painful inadequacies.  I am humbled by my weaknesses and my seemingly constant tendency to turn towards the idol of self-reliance, But I don't have to flounder in my mistakes, because Christ weaves both the good and the bad of my life into His ultimate plan.  I want to stop running and striving, for while the constant go-go-go gives the illusion of progress, it only leaves me more empty and in greater need of Someone outside of myself.  In the words of Augustine, "God has made us for Himself and our hearts are restless until they find their rest in Him."  And God offers exactly that: "Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls" (Matthew 11:28-29 ESV).  I know that God is my only sure support, and without Him I will continue down this path of emptiness and despair.  I need to re-focus and put first things first (that first thing, in this case, being my time with the Lord).  My prayer is that through that precious time, I will come once again to delight in God, and that from that delight will overflow the desire and freedom to pour out myself for His sake.  He alone is the great fountain of Life, and His grace alone can fill me daily.