Yesterday did me in, friends.
It was the rain, or a few miscalculations of time, or this cold, or our usual mad dash to get Little Jo home for a half-nap while Lucy is at school — most likely some terrifically amplifying combination — but in the evening I fell asleep waiting for the girls’ bedtime routine to begin, and afterward sat at my desk acquainting myself with paint patterns on the textured ceiling.
Then, when I flipped through the ideas remaining for this series, one stood out: a story from another time that I felt this drained to the dregs.
Back when we were dating, I had come over to Y’s apartment at the end of a long, drawn-out, trying day. He was typing away on his computer, and turned to see my spent and listless face. In response, he opened his arms wordlessly, and I leaned in.
If you meet us in person, I think you’d agree that where I tend toward flighty poetry, he is grounded prose. I wasn’t as well-versed in the fine print of our relationship then as I am now, but I still wasn’t too surprised when I heard him resume typing as I rested on his shoulder.
But then I heard the opening notes to “How Deep the Father’s Love for Us,” as it began playing over the small speakers. I loved this quieting, reorienting song from the first moment I’d heard it in his car, and he knew it.
How deep the Father’s love for us
How vast beyond all measure
That He should give His only Son
To make a wretch His treasure
How great the pain of searing loss
The Father turns His face away
As wounds which mar the chosen one
Bring many sons to glory
– “How Deep the Father’s Love for Us,” Stuart Townend
My exhaustion fell, shattering into relief alongside a few tired tears. Y left me there in his chair, gently closing the door behind him so that I could bring my burdens to the One who is able to give rest.
It’s one of the best things he’s ever done for me. And in our finest hours as husband and wife — amid all our inglorious ones — this is still what we do, directing each other to our Very Present Help in time of need, making room for words of life that have faded in the face of worry.
It’s what happens when we live life with others who know the Father.
But encourage one another daily, as long as it is called “Today,” so that none of you may be hardened by sin’s deceitfulness. – Heb. 3:13, NIV
And let us consider how we may spur one another on toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing, but encouraging one another—and all the more as you see the Day approaching. – Heb. 10:24-25, NIV
Let the message of Christ dwell among you richly as you teach and admonish one another with all wisdom through psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit, singing to God with gratitude in your hearts. – Col. 3:16, NIV
I hope earnestly that you know the richness of Christ’s dwelling in community, friends. Especially in the times your strength falters.
And however long your visit here, I hope that these posts help to point the way Home.
This post is part of a 31 day series about Loving God as an Introvert.
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