This past month has been hectic, tiring, crazy and flat out overwhelming. As a result, I am tired, I am whiny and I am not allowing my husband leave my side again for a year. Except for work, gigs, and youth conference, of course.
In April we started a project in our home that was put on hold for a while so that we could gather funds and find the right person to fix the first job we had done. It seemed that once we finally were able to get things going we were running with it. We stayed up at night working together on all the little details. For about a week, we really focused and made a lot of progress. We were tired from all the late nights, but it was nothing because of how much closer we grew working on the projects together.
Then it was time for my husband to go with the scouts on a week long camp. I was very excited about this trip for him. I knew it would be a good experience and I didn't think a week alone would be so bad.
Until the puke started coming. The entire week was spent cleaning puke and other extractions all over my home. Many, many loads of laundry later (and a few days), we seemed to be back in good health. And I was exhausted. Without my husband there to help that week, I had the entire burden, there was no help or relief for me and most of my good attributes were slowly wearing away.
Then he came home. I was so glad to see him, I probably would have cried, but I was too tired. I was so glad to have his support again, his friendship, his unconditional love.
But life started right back up for him and he was off to work, meetings and gigs right away. And then he was gone for another camp where he was needed, only for two days this time. The anxiety I was feeling must have gotten the better of me and I wasn't able to sleep, so I was not only emotionally exhausted, but physically as well.
We made it two more days and then he came home, however, just for a few hours before another gig and then work the next day.
It just feels like I have hit the bottom of my bucket and there's not much in there.
I want to kick myself for being here and feeling this way because I know what great experiences my husband has been having. He has been strengthened and nourished spiritually and emotionally over these past few weeks. He comes home strong and happy and wonderful. And he comes home to me, a pitiful little beaten down mouse waiting for him, sucking all that great energy right out of him as soon as he sets foot back in our home.
I whined to him about all that I have been through and how crummy I felt. He was very concerned and very understanding and VERY lovingly attentive to my complaints. And although I wanted his sympathy and I wanted him to know how much I need him, I also felt a tinge of guilt for taking away what he had been filled with during his experiences.
But, I still continued on in my sulking and whining.
He still has one more conference to go to this summer and I am not looking forward to it.
It seems a bit overwhelming and I am not exactly sure how to handle it. But I am running on empty and I don't seem to have the strength and the power I need to be the kind of person I know I can and should be. The kind of person I would want to come home to.
Thankfully, in church today, my heart was pointed toward something that has made a big impression on me and given me some hope, perhaps even the "Umph" I need to really turn to the Lord and ask for Him to fill in for what I am lacking right now.
We were told stories of some of our early church members and the many experiences they had. As I listened to stories of men being called to serve missions, leaving families behind as they went off to serve the Lord for months, perhaps years, at a time, my thoughts were turned to their wives. I thought of them staying home with their young families, not really knowing how they would manage. But, they did manage, and they were blessed. They faced hardships and sorrows on their own, without their beloved spouse there to support them at the time. They took on the responsibilities of running the home and the farm and whatever else was asked of them.
And they did it all, for months, or years.
It makes my little experience seem so small, so insignificant, so fixable. If the Lord could bless these women with the strength to carry on and handle their circumstances with faith, courage and dignity, then certainly, He will be there for me, too. If I can put my bucket in a position to receive blessings and love for my Savior, then it will be filled.
I need to set out my bucket,
I need to ask for His help.
