Exhausted: out of every kind of energy: emotional; spiritual; physical. Downhearted, and down on "me;" I felt useless on many levels.
I felt as though I needed to draw a tight curtain around myself, and retreat--and I did. In the room where I most often spend intentional time with God, which has been a guest bedroom since August 12th, I spent an hour with God's Word, and my journal last night.
Just stopping, I realised how very tired I felt. I knew that the next thing on my agenda would be bed. By 10.30, beneath the covers, I sank into my pillow with gratitude that a whole night of sleep lay ahead. I slept for a solid 9 hours. Apparently there was a severe thunderstorm last night, but I didn't hear a thing. 36,000 Ontarians woke up without power this morning, but I got a bit of mine back. And I took a morning of vacation time to continue the restoration process.
I enjoyed our company of the last month and a half, but during that time, and the run up of preparing for their arrival, I lost my necessary rhythm of time with people and time alone and with God. Yesterday I found my self screaming in every part of my being for the latter two; craving them more than writing, or time on the Internet. More than activity and engagement, I needed to disengage.
Late on Saturday night I prepared for a big family dinner the next day (see Time Flies). Although the rest of our family had long gone to bed, and the house had settled into the creaky sounds of night time, I noticed that I was not alone in the kitchen. A large Daddy-Long-Legs hovered precariously over the sink filled with water and the peels of potatoes I was almost finished peeling. I willed him away, but he seemed determined to live dangerously, and he landed on the inside of the sink, just inches above the waterline...and began sliding backwards towards the water. I pulled the plug quickly, but the water seeped too slowly through the peels and he landed in it. After a brief struggle, his wings became waterlogged and he stopped moving; legs akimbo; wings wonky; looking like a miniature downed wartime aircraft on top of the pile of peels.
I was almost sure he was dead, but I couldn't bring myself to scoop up the delicate creature with the potato peels, so after gingerly peeling the final few potatoes, I left the sink as it was and went to bed. To my happy surprise, in the morning, just the sink of dried potato peels remained!
Last night I felt just like that downed Daddy-Long-Legs. A loving Father has dried my wings and restored strength to my legs. And I can fly again!