Praise the Lord; praise God our savior! For each day he carries us in his arms Psalm 68:19 (NLT)
When I was pregnant with oldest son, I was invited to speak to a local service organization whose mission it was to raise funds and reinvest them in our community. When I heard of all the worthy projects that this group supported, I expressed an interest in joining. The woman who was president at that time gave a pointed look at my swollen belly and laughed. She said, “Come talk to me again after the baby is born.” Had I not understood her intentions were kind, I might have been offended. But, when I returned to work leaving my six week old baby in the care of my mother still sore from a C-section, I was grateful that she urged me to wait and not succumb to whatever hormones might have been racing at the time I thought I should volunteer for anything beyond my 40 hour work week and staying up all night with nursing baby. Over time as he grew, I volunteered for other projects, but I always had a personal policy of never being away from home more than one night a week. Sometimes, I signed up for more than my to do list could handle, other times, I wisely said no more than yes. I am a homebody at heart. Lately, I crave being home. I have gotten slack with saying no and with the addition of exercise classes to my schedule, several weeks in a row I have been gone every night of the week. I just can’t do that anymore. Many evenings, husband will come home to find supper simmering on the stove and me curled up under the covers as I try to rest before having to go back out again. The medicine I take makes me so tired that I am considering asking the doctor to take me off of it. I do not like feeling so weak. While it does remind me of how I felt when I was pregnant, at least then, there was an end in sight and a sweet baby boy as a reward. Not to mention the obvious physical sign that made women you hardly know refuse to accept your volunteer application and send you home for a nap instead. To be honest, I have been feeling kind of down about the changes to my body. While I don’t expect to be the Duracell bunny, I am used to be able to do more than I can right now. This morning, my Bible reading was in one of my favorite Psalms, Psalm 68: “Father to the fatherless, defender of widows— this is God, whose dwelling is holy. God places the lonely in families; he sets the prisoners free and gives them joy.” I have always loved how it tells of God, the Holy One, stooping down from His throne to take care of widows and orphans and place them into families. But, today, it struck me how like a prisoner, He can set me free from my melancholy and give me joy even in the midst of this trial. The Psalm goes on to say, “Praise the Lord; praise God our savior! For each day he carries us in his arms!” Even though sometimes I don’t think I can take another step, I can still thank Him for the knowledge that He will and does carry me when I feel like I am failing.