I wake up in a room.

Dazed, tired, heavy.

By now I am so used to these feelings I don’t notice them. They are my normal. They are a part of me, like a freckle. Like a scar.

I slowly look around collecting my bearings, trying to figure out where I am.

The room is a gigantic circle, or maybe an octagon, and all around, spaced evenly apart, are dozens of doors with signs above them. Above one is a sign that says, “Job”. Above another is one that says, “Kids” and above another, “Marriage”.

Directly behind me is a door much wider and taller than all the rest with a sign that screams in all caps, “LAUNDRY!”

Then I notice in a far corner with a “Do Not Disturb” sign swaying from the knob a door labeled, “Sex”.

I look down at my hand to find a large keyring full of keys, all silver and labeled, the weight of it causing my arm to burn. I sheepishly glance at the door marked “Workout” noticing it looks a little dusty.

My heart starts beating, my chest heaving looking around at all the doors.

Which one do I go into first? That laundry door is BULGING. Hmm. Maybe I’ll ignore that one.

I take a deep breath. My hands start to shake as I shuffle through the keys, knowing all these things have to be done, all these doors have to be opened and closed by the end of the day. Knowing I’m the only one who can take care of them. It’s all. on. me.

Get moving, girl. Pull up your bootstraps. You’re FINE. You’re ENOUGH. You can DO THIS.

I muster all the strength I can and walk quickly toward the marriage door. That one feels important.

I run in and run out, slamming it behind me. That didn’t go well.

And before I know it, I’m sprinting from door to door, opening and closing and running to the next one, opening and closing, in and out and in and out, panicking as I shuffle through the keys as quickly as I can between each door.

As soon as I get done in the “Read Your Bible” room, I hear banging and screaming coming from behind the “Kids” door and a tower of dishes collapsing with a crash from behind the door marked “Housework”.

I don’t even have time to question why there’s a separate room for laundry (it requires its OWN ROOM?) because I’m rushing and running and gasping for breath until eventually, I collapse.

I’m exhausted.

I can’t keep up, and no matter how many times I go through the laundry door, I STILL SEE clothes reaching out from beneath it as though they’re trying to attack, strangle me with a bra strap.

I throw the huge ring of keys down on the ground with a crash and SCREAM like I’m tied to the tracks watching a train barrel toward me. Like I’m desperate.

And with a crushing blow to my pride and my womanhood I realize it. I can’t do it all. Why can’t I do it all?

I pull myself to my knees and kneel down in the middle of the room, hands raised high, tears streaming down my face, and cry out.

“GOD. HELP. HELP ME.

Do you at least have a master key? Just one that will get me into all the rooms? I’m weary and heavy-laden; my yoke is so heavy it’s pulling me down to the ground. I’m so, so tired.

I need you. Please. Help me. I need you.”

And suddenly, in perfect unison, I hear a loud *click* as all the doors swing open.

And He reaches down, gently picks me up off the ground, grabs the ring of keys from my trembling grasp, and places it in His pocket.

“I’ll hold these. Please, don’t try to take them back. From here on out, I’ll take care of them.”

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:28-30).

“Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’ For after all these things the Gentiles seek. For your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness and all these things shall be added unto you” (Matthew 6:31-33).

Originally published on Jordan Harrell, Writer

 

Recommendations in this post contain affiliate links. Her View From Home may receive a small commission if you choose to purchase.

You may also like: 

Dear God, I’m Just So Tired

God Sees You, Weary Mama

This is Why Moms Are So Exhausted

Jordan Harrell

Jordan writes about the days with her three kids and wonderful husband to help her get through the days with her three kids and wonderful husband. She's really good at eating chocolate, over-analyzing everything, and forgetting stuff. In 2017, Jordan founded fridaynightwives.com, a blog and boutique that serves as a ministry for coaches' wives. You can find her at jordanharrell.comFacebookInstagram, or Twitter.