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I am exhausted.
The last couple of weeks have been very emotionally trying. One after the other, circumstances happened that threw my world in a loop. Things I thought I had gotten over, resurfaced and hit me full on. I continually had to fight back tears of hurt, anger, frustration and confusion. I still am, honestly. And I'm exhausted. I'm really, really tired. Of a lot of things. Of a lot of people. Of a lot of thoughts and feelings.
While business was slow at work, I perched myself on the counter and looked outside. My eye caught movement at the used car lot, next door to the coffee stand I work at. A couple was checking out a car and their young son was nearby. His legs were crooked and misshaped. He was walking with two canes attached to either arm. And stumbling with each step as he forced his legs to move towards his parents.
The first thought that came to my head was 'What a beautiful little boy.'
The second was 'This is what we are like in our striving walk towards God.'
I saw myself in that little boy. I saw my emotions represented by the way he was staggering and stumbling, trying so hard to walk with confidence, unswerving.
Yet how often is that the way we walk?
That little boy was a beautiful picture of life itself. And he reminded me of how deformed I am. Maybe not outwardly, but inwardly, I am a mess. I am a distorted, twisted, mangled mass of heart and emotions and feelings and passions. And sometimes it's overwhelming to try to figure it all out, you know? I'm exhausted with trying to untangle it all and push forward without constantly staggering and stumbling.
But that's when I have to remind myself that I am not supposed to be the strong one.
I can try as many times as I want to, but I will never succeed.
I'm finite.
I'm human.
I'm flawed.
But oh praise be that I serve a God whose strength is made manifest IN my weakness. And through His strong, yet gentle hands, He is shaping me into something beautiful.