I’m not as strong as I used to be.
I’m realizing this is a good thing.
Our move, like so many things involving mice and men, did not go according to plan. What should have taken the space of half of week morphed into a three week epic. On our “official” moving day, our helpers did not show. This meant that I had to help my husband lift and carry all of our heavy furniture. (Read: ridiculously weighty sleeper sofa the size of a small city.) Now, I have to back up and explain here. I’ve always edged toward tomboy. I’ve been proud of my ability to help my husband in any capacity he may need me in, from lifting furniture to helping fix the cars. I know my spark plugs from my distributor caps. I liked being strong and capable. I used to disdain those ‘helpless belles’ that couldn’t lift more than a few milk jugs worth of weight.
Come Saturday two weeks past, it all came to a close.
I was no longer as strong as I used to be. After an extended illness and the birth of five children, I was no longer able to lift and move with the ease I used to have. After the first two large pieces of furniture (after spending most of the morning moving the smaller boxes), I was undone. By the time the day closed, I was so exhausted and muscle-sore that I was in tears with each move, and trying not to apologize to my husband with each step.
On Sunday, the calvary arrived, and I was released from needing to carry the heavy items. Thank heavens for a few good men with strong backs!
It took me nearly a week to recover from the strain, and a week into the move I came down with the worst head cold I have had in a long time.
Oh, how frustrated I was!
Here I was, in the middle of the move, needing to get things done dontcha know?
There were many tearful telephone calls to my husband, to my mother, just trying to find the balance.
Anywhere, anyone, but the One I should have run to first.
(I am so dumb. And stubborn. And well, do you think I could have learned this lesson by now?)
I can’t remember what I was doing at the time, but the lines from a worship song based on scripture floated through my head, and I was undone.
This time, it was the right sort.
I hit my knees.
But he replied, “My kindness is all you need. My power is strongest when you are weak.” So if Christ keeps giving me his power, I will gladly brag about how weak I am.” (2 Corinthians 12:9 CEV)
My mind went back to moving day. I was so surprised at my physical weakness. It seemed now, I was surprised at my mental and emotional “weakness”. Oh what conversations needed to be had with my Lord! What confessions I needed to make!
I humbly confess that part of the reason I got to this point was because I am always trying to jump the fences God has put in place for me. I would ignore His directives and guidelines, and then be so surprised when I landed in a place far from Him. It seemed He was using my physical limitations these past few weeks to remind me very clearly of the far lands I had come from, warning me against visiting them again.
How a great a Shepherd we serve.
And what a beautiful ‘field’ has He placed me in now! It is breathtaking scenery. I know everyone wants to see what the barn house looks like; I will try to get pictures today. We’ve had two weeks of foggy, rainy muck that is not photo-taking friendly in the least!