I'm sapped of strength tonight. Although nothing unusual occurred, the day depleted my reserves of energy. Perhaps the heat deserves the blame. Perhaps it's simply the toll of keeping the children up later for fireworks the other night.
Perhaps it's just the children. They're so constant.
It was a typical day -- preparing snacks, wrestling clothes on and off wiggly bodies, changing diapers, mediating fights, answering questions, giving corrections: "no dumping sand on the porch," "stop grating your cheese stick on the screen door," "put your sister down," "eat your cereal with your spoon, not with your hands."
In this time of depletion, I'm reminded of a beautiful passage in Isaiah (chapter 40). It's worth a read.
[The Lord] gives strength to the weary
and increases the power of the weak.
Even youths grow tired and weary,
and young men stumble and fall;
but those who hope in the LORD will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
they will run and not grow weary,
they will walk and not be faint.
Oh, I love these promises. But what I enjoy even more from this chapter is a verse that comes earlier -- a little gem.
He tends his flock like a shepherd:
He gathers the lambs in his arms
and carries them close to his heart;
he gently leads those that have young.
Think about this: God gently leads those who have young. Not dragging us kicking and screaming, as some of us might have done today with our own little ones when they refused to move. Not prodding us along. But gently leading us.
I imagine God taking my weary hand, encouraging me to stand, and offering encouragement. "Come on, Robin, you can keep going. I'm right here with you. I gave you these children. I'll give you the strength to care for them. You're not alone in this."
Neither are you. We're carried close to God's heart. We're gently led.