Tired of Tired

It happens almost every evening. Five o'clock. I'm driving home. All day long I've been dreaming and planning what I'm going to do this evening. If I had some down-time over lunch, I probably concocted a beautifully organized, prioritized to-do list.

But as I'm driving home, my motivation wains. The exhaustion of the day comes rushing in. The adrenaline that got me through 7 patients and piles of paperwork suddenly ebbs. And I'm left with mind-numbing fatigue.

I know why it's there. It's the perfect concoction of a high-stress job and a low iron count. I'm anemic. I battle chronic stomach problems. And I run hard in a pressure-cooker job all day. (Which I love, I promise!)

But knowing why it's there ("Remember, Courtney, you're anemic and it was a long day.") is still a long way from resting in that state. I know why I'm tired, but that doesn't mean that I am resigned to this feeling. It doesn't mean that I greet it with grace. It doesn't mean that mentally, every evening, I smile, sigh, and delight in the health that I do have.

Au contrair. It means that many nights my husband has to put up with frustrated whining as I come face-to-face with my own inadequacy.

Because that's what this is. This isn't about my to-do list or my stomach.

This is about my pride and self-sufficiency. This is about my ability to manipulate and control my world.  It's about not allowing my to-do list to become my source of identity.

For some strange, unknown reason, God saved me, and loves me, regardless of my to-do list. My identity is as his child. I am His. That is all.

My prayer mimics those of the Puritan fathers:

"The thought of thine infinite serenity cheers me,
For I am toiling and moiling, troubled and distressed...
I come to thee as a sinner with cares and sorrows,
to leave every concern entirely to thee,
every sin calling for Christ's precious blood...
Grant me to know that I truly live only when I live to thee,
that all else is trifling.
Thy presence alone can make me holy, devout, strong, and happy.
Abide in me, gracious God."

May I do one things today: rest in my Savior.