Doing versus Being

Lately, my “tiredness” has been especially apparent and it has caused me to question, “was I always this tired?” Was I this tired when Jakob was an infant or when we became parents of two? Did I struggle to keep my eyes open after 7pm all the time…because it really just feels as though it has been the past two years that this dullness has settled in on my life. By dullness, I mean, not just rainy day kind of tiredness but rather a serious lack of joie de vive. No drive. No motivation. No common joy. I have always been the melancholic type but I wouldn’t say I have been the sad type. I remember a time when I looked forward to waking up every morning excited with what the day would hold. Truly. I always considered myself a morning person, even an optimistic person but as of late….I feel as though the light has faded and the candle has been snuffed out.

As I talked with Ben about how I was feeling, I realized that evenings only became a dreaded time once we moved to Vancouver and I stopped taking classes. I was able to articulate that in Cambridge, and even when we lived in Alberta, mornings were refreshing as I took time in the quiet hours to read, do devotions and plan my day and evenings were sacred because that is when I took time for me…it’s when I took time to read and write.

Writing.

My life blood. Pen on page…(or fingers on keyboard)…the place where I sort through all that has gone wrong in my day and I find the silver lining, make sense of it, acknowledge the blessing and hopefully, in the cases when my thoughts ended up here, passed the blessing on. This past winter though, without even knowing it, I stole my sacred time away from myself. Evening just became another time to do work. There was no rest. There was no restoration.

“The odd thing about this form of communication is that you’re more likely to talk about nothing than something. But I just want to say that all this nothing has meant more to me than so many somethings.”

I spent a bit of time tonight going through the archives of this space. Most of the time, I really did write about nothing. But in writing about nothing and sharing life with you I found joy. I don’t share life anymore. Here or in my home. I don’t cook delicious meals, try innovative new recipes or carefully craft decadent desserts anymore because I have no one to share them with.

I had a thought the other day. It went like this…People in Vancouver are too busy to be friends with me……

wait a minute….

maybe I’m too busy to be friends with people in Vancouver?

I have let my life become consumed and I am taking full responsibility.

And I want to say I’m sorry.

I’m sorry for all the times, I didn’t have time to go for coffee, or stay to chat or help you out. I’m sorry for all the times I led you to believe that doing more made your life fuller.

I know that this is not who I am.

I want to stop focusing on doing and start focusing on being…

I want to be the mother that always has time to play

I want to be the wife who always has the patience to nurture

I want to be the friend that always has time to listen

I want to be the disciple who can be still enough to hear and humble enough to obey