Seems to be my continual quest, and one I'm not very good at.
It's silly really. I mean, I believe absolutely in the One who can hold my anxieties. The One who knows my every thought. The One who offers peace. Perfect love given to me. Unconditionally. Graciously. Continually. Yet, here I am. Tired. Frazzled. Stressed. Worn down by the day to day cares of running a home, looking after a pre-schooler, and doing a degree. It's not like my life is bad. Things can be tough, but they aren't 'beyond do-able' tough. We have good things in our lives, great family, beautiful surroundings, nutritious and plentiful food. But I'm tired. And I'm sitting here on Easter Saturday feeling just a little bit jaded. It's Easter. A long weekend. The only one we can be guaranteed of getting in our home. Boyo actually has the weekend off work, but we're just here, bumming around home. I wanted to go to the Jazz festival. I wanted to go for a nice long bush walk. I wanted to make Easter Tomb cookies with my boy and tell the Easter story. But instead I'm having an afternoon nap each day. Munchkin doesn't mind, he doesn't know it was supposed to be any different. But I know. And I do care. I want to focus on Christ, on the deep personal significance that Easter holds for me. But somehow I've ended up tangled up in tired.
That's it. Enough is enough. Tired is going to focus on Jesus.