Packing up eight lives. Wrapping up four years of life in this home.
It’s exhausting work.
And then there is the come over for one last dinner and the let’s go out for coffee one last time. The squeezing in of playdates and sleepovers and girls’ nights out.
Four years of friendships being fitted for a memory box rather than a daily way of life. Promises of phone calls during weekend minutes and emails and text messages and keeping up on Facebook. Knowing that in spite of it all, things won’t be quite the same. It’s exhausting.
And in the midst of it all, messages from friends in the home we’re moving back to. Counting down the days. Promises to help us unload. Plans for visits and hugs. Excitement and joy and anticipation of catching up and sharing day-to-day life again.
Yet four years have gone by. Four full years. And I have changed. I have faced loss and loneliness. I have fought battles. I have seen death creep closely to my home. Though death did not win, I have felt its sting.
Knowing that in spite of all the anticipation and excitement, things won’t be quite the same.
It’s exhausting. All this sadness and happiness and sorting through memories and making more memories and grief and excitement. My heart is tired.
Do you ever feel like that? Do you ever feel like your emotions just need a nap, a break from feeling, from emoting? I sure feel that way now. And in the midst of it all, my mind keeps returning to this invitation from Jesus —
Come to Me, all of you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest
My exhausted heart needs His rest. Does yours?