There are days when I feel like I just can’t. go. on.
Days when the walls close in around me and all I want is to get in my car and drive, drive until the state name is new and the accents are different and I don’t recognize a thing, and I can make a new start.
Days when my carefully constructed lie of control and perfection and put-together-ness crumbles all around me and I’m left staring at the dust wondering which brick caved first. Days when my heart is too overwhelmed and my head is too full already and my hands are too empty. Days when I look at my calender, my to-do list, my terrifyingly big and blank and far-too-close future and it makes me want to run, hide, scream because everything is just too big and I am just too small.
Days when I’m not sure I can face tomorrow, days that I know will be filled with not enough sleep and too much stress.
You have those days, don’t you?
Because I do. And I usually try and hide them. Organize everything terrifying my brain into a neat checklist, smile and say I’m fine, and begin to rebuild that wall of perfection and control because even when it falls down, I don’t want you to know.
So far, this has not worked out so well.
I have pushed through those days and I have acted strong and I have said I’m fine, I’m just tired and I’m good, just busy more times than I can count. I act strong and I push through and it all goes along great until I can’t do it anymore, can’t push through and can’t act strong, and then suddenly one day it’s 1 am and I’m having a complete, total, ugly-crying breakdown in a friend’s car because I can’t do everything and shouldn’t I be able to?
(the answer is no.)
Sometimes, I think these are the days God smiles. These days He looks down at me and my silly little stupid wall, my illusions and delusions and He just laughs. And He waits.
“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”
Waits for me to say that I can’t do this. That tomorrow is too overwhelming, that I can’t handle it. That I am not perfect and I am not in control and Abba, where are you because I need you now.
He is there. He is right there, always and evermore, whispering into my heart, my grace is sufficient, child.
These are the days He likes because these are the days I admit, finally, that I need Him. Admit my powerlessness, my faults and failures and just plain humanness.
He likes it because these days, I move out of the way. These days I step aside and let God take control. These days, I am reminded how big He is, how much He loves me, how much He promises good to me.
These days, His power is made perfect because I finally admit my weakness.