Come to Me

February ended and March began, and I barely noticed. Besides being covered in hives for half of February, I had sick children to care for, an uncle who passed away after a long fight with cancer, an aunt and two cousins to comfort, and my dear husband's birthday to celebrate. I was so preoccupied that I was putting milk in the pantry instead of the refrigerator. At least, I think I put the milk in the pantry. I don't remember.

Most days I wake up feeling tired. Then I tackle the day and go until I've finished everything on my list and go back to bed, feeling more tired. After a while, the fatigue compounds, and when I am feeling really, really tired, the headaches and self-pity start. That's when Grumpy Mama Baird emerges. And the guilt begins. I tell myself, "This is nothing compared to what Jesus went through!" I feel like a failure for yelling at my children and for being short with my husband and I feel completely undeserving of love or grace. Then, when I have a few days to rest and catch up, I'm back to my normal self, until the next time. It's been like this since October, and it's a cycle I want to break.

This morning I did NOT want to go to church. I was running on little sleep. I drove to Sacramento and back yesterday. And on top of that, we lost an hour due to Daylight Savings. I wanted to give in to my fatigue and moan and gripe and hole up in my house. 

But He said to me, "Come. Come to me." So I set my mind on Jesus– not his death and suffering on the cross, but his life and care for people who suffered. When Jesus met a suffering person, He never belittled him or her. And though my suffering will never be as great as what He endured on the cross, or even close to what some people endure right now in their lifetime, I feel His love for me as I struggle even with the little things. I hear His voice saying, "Rita, it's okay. I will help you through this. I love you."

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest." ~Matthew 11:28