It Always Feels Like Somebody's Watching Me ... And They Are!

sallycherrytree.JPG

Weariness did not even begin to define the bone-deep exhaustion I was feeling. Lifting the weight of my body off of my bed in the mornings felt like an impossible task. Three hormonal teenagers, a budding seven-year-old, Clay with a ruptured disc that caused him excruciating pain with each step; a book deadline; a daughter in and out of the hospital being tested for a brain tumor, and my mom falling and breaking her hip were just a few of the issues that occupied my thoughts each day.

Resentment was exploding inside my brain. "No one appreciates all that I am doing to keep this family together. Cooking, washing, teaching, caring for everyone, running them to appointments, lessons, doctors and listening beyond midnight to teens pouring out their angst," and the lists of my exhausting responsibilities grew longer and longer in my mind. This fueled my frustration with Clay, who was lying next to me in bed, seemingly unaware of all my burdens.

The sun was just beginning to peek through the crack in the curtains, reminding me that there was little time left to sleep. I was entertaining evil, selfish thoughts toward Clay when the Holy Spirit gently nudged my conscience. "He needs you to encourage him. He is so discouraged because of bills, pain, and the insecurities of life all around him."

"Really, Lord? I am the one needing encouragement!"

Slowly, I willed my arm to reach over and gently scratched his back, confiding, "I just want you to know that I really love you and respect how bravely you have borne your ruptured disc. I know you are in such pain every day, but I am praying for you," I softly whispered, in sheer obedience to God.

Quietly, almost imperceptible, he responded,"I am so relieved. You have every right to be mad at me. I thought you were disappointed in me for not paying attention to you or taking care of you. But I have been so down about the overwhelming issues in our lives and constantly in pain, and I have not meant to neglect you--there is just so much. Thank you for being patient with me. I really appreciate you and love you."

And he reached over and gently embraced me before crawling out of bed, grimacing at the pain triggered by even that simple movement.

I turned over and slowly slipped out of bed, donned my soft, well-worn robe and padded quietly toward the kitchen for my first cup of caffeine.

As I approached the door of my bedroom, I was suddenly startled by the sight of my son lying quietly on our bedroom floor, cuddled in a comforter and staring up thoughtfully from his soft pillow.

"Mama, I was sleeping here because I had a real bad dream, but I knew you were tired so I didn't want to wake you up. But I heard you and Daddy talking. It made me feel happy to hear you all comforting each other and saying, 'I love you.' I want a marriage just like you when I grow up -- where my wife and I love each together and are partners in life. That would be so much fun to live with your best friend."

I hadn’t even known he was there! I was so glad in that moment that I hadn't given into my frustration and lashed out at Clay earlier. You just never know when your children are listening or watching, and you will always be glad you responded to a hard situation in gentleness and love.