I’m having a down day. I often wonder what other people do with those days. It seems like I’m the only person that feels like pulling the covers back over my head every once in a while (besides the teenagers on facebook who need to learn what TMI means). Pinpointing exactly why days such as this happen would be helpful but it’s usually a mysterious occurrence. Sure, I didn’t sleep well and I have an ear ache that is killing me but it’s more than that. My soul is wrestling…but with which masked enemy?
Fear? He is an all too familiar opponent that knows how to put me in a headlock in two seconds flat. God and I have fought this one together for years. You would think I’d have a better grasp on his weaknesses but he has had me for weeks now. I know that his Achilles heal is prayer so why do I put off going to other people? Fear is strong and I have discovered I need to tag team with others to defeat him; and yet…I’m still face down on the floor.
Regret? This is a seductive enemy. She presents herself as innocent. The thought that important things in my life have deserved more than I’ve given. God, my husband, my kids, my friends, my education, my talent…I regret not being more in love with Jesus so that people see and feel Him when they are around me. I regret ever causing insecurity in the heart of my husband. I regret yelling at my kids or cleaning instead of playing when they were children. I regret being moody. I regret not being able to save a friendship. I regret eating that Reese’s Peanut Butter cup yesterday. I regret that sin that only God knows. Ugh….the list is endless and it all has a kernel of truth so I continue to wrestle with her when it’s really a fruitless fight. “I don’t have time to maintain these regrets when I think about the way…” He loves me. That means He forgives me…He offers me hope….and new beginnings…and new options…but I still find myself pinned against the ropes.
Weariness? Flat out “smack me in my face and watch me go down for the count”. That’s what he is. Not much to say except that I know better. I’m not meant to live at 60 mph 20 hours a day. I’m created for some solitude and quiet. I’m created to ponder and question and turn over ideas and concepts in my head. I’m created to meditate- and that isn’t a bad word. I’m created to create, to move, to sit with friends and just enjoy their company, to listen to the sounds of birds singing, to worship, to love, to cry, to laugh. So why do I allow everything else to overwhelm me and hand me right into the arms of this wrestling giant? He doesn’t have to do anything to me…I do it to myself. “Here I am weariness. All tuckered out just for you. 1,2,3,4…”
Confusion? It may be hormonal, environmental or spiritual but this enemy just gets me all turned around. I don’t know where he is, what he’s doing, where I’m going or why. I’m scattered. The world feels and looks like one of those old British movies set in the moors with thick fog rolling over everything. It’s as if I’m moving in slow motion during a fight that has been put on fast forward. By the time I see something coming it’s too late and I’ve been hurled over the ropes and into the audience only to land in a heap at the feet of people that stare on in amazement. But today, that’s where I feel like I am and I just don’t want to get up.
There are so many more enemies I wrestle with. Insecurity. Uncertainty. Anger. Futility. Worry. Boredom. I’m sure there are many that I haven’t even identified and I’m truly grateful that the wrestling match doesn’t seem to overwhelm me as often as it use to. But today I’m tired and feeling alone and just plan weak. I hate being weak. I hate feeling weird and alone. My gut says we all have days like this but my heart says I’m just weird. I guess by writing this I am either counting on the fact that someone else gets it and neither of us are alone or that I’m not going to be held down by who I am.
Either way…this is me…simply put and in my jeans…and my God is greater. So…on a day like this when I feel like I’m down for the count I will spill my guts and wait on the mat. I know that, while I cry, my hero is entering the ring and this mysterious enemy that has me down is about to get their butt kicked. I love my Jesus. He gets me.