“Are you tired? Worn out? Burned out on religion? Come to me. Get away with me and you’ll recover your life. I’ll show you how to take a real rest. Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.” 

- Jesus (Matthew 11:28-30)

Everywhere I turn I am faced with weariness. Either my own or someone else’s.

As COVID-19 ravages our world and threatens our physical and mental well-being, weariness seems to be the pandemic of our souls. 

Unplanned homeschooling. Juggling work from home. Joblessness. Loss of plans and dreams. Sickness. Isolation. Fear. Hopelessness. It all makes us so weary and worn out.

According to Merriam-Webster’s definition, the word “weary” means: exhausted in strength, endurance, vigor, or freshness; having one's patience, tolerance, or pleasure exhausted. 

That’s how I’m feeling these days. How about you?

Oh, I want to be motivated, joyful, creative, focused, productive, and innovative in this strange season, but sometimes it feels like I’m dragging my feet through thick rainforest mud. All the while, the rain keeps pouring and making things worse, as I trudge from task to task. 

Here in the muck and the mire, my immediate reaction to admitting I am weary is to feel guilt or shame about it - like I should be able to rise above this and do better, and not be so darn lazy, weak, self-absorbed, or - you fill in the blank. 

I have been programmed through the years to think I should just be able to choose gratitude at all times and, in every instance, flip weariness or sadness on its head and replace it with the spirit of joy - with the help of a handy, hip-pocket Scripture, of course!

And, certainly, there is a place for simply choosing joy and gratitude. I do it often. But it is also incredibly important to honor the deep emotions we might be experiencing, lest they fester unattended and infect our souls.

So, what if it doesn’t have to be one or the other of these? Not joy instead of sadness. Or recovery in lieu of grief. Or breakthrough eclipsing stuck-ness. What if it is actually OK to be in it all at the same time? 

What if I can be utterly exhausted, worn down by my circumstances, fed up with the tirade of responsibilities, saddened by my lack of motivation, grieved by my own losses and the losses of this world, while also being incredibly thankful and joyful in all God has given? 

What if it could all be one holy, messy struggle and me not feel guilty about it?

Because I am truly thankful for my cherished loved ones, beginning with my husband Joe. I’m thankful that he’s downstairs making homemade meatballs right now, for our spaghetti dinner, while I proof my blog. I’m thankful my Dad is sitting on the couch watching football and for the light snowfall that made the ground sparkle today.

But I’m also worn out from having work and home life merged under one roof. Both are true.

And while I’m also grateful for the roof over my head, for my job and ministry, for food on the table, for good health, for my dog Chloe, and for the abundant love of Jesus, some days I want to cry and get in the car and just drive. Anyone else?

So, here’s the good news…

Even in my utter weariness, Jesus offers me an invitation and not a rejection slip.  

“Come to me,” He whispers.

“Not after you recover but in order to recover.” 

Jesus fully and gently acknowledges exactly where you and I are and encourages us to hang out with Him in our most depleted state. 

No heavy expectations. No guilt or shame. No judgment.

Only tender love and merciful waves of grace-filled welcome and instruction.

Ah-h-h-h-h. Sit in that for a minute or more. 

“Yes, Jesus. I am so tired. And, yes, Lord. I am also so thankful. Help me to be satisfied in and refreshed by You, as I sit here in both realities.” 

And so, from this place, I also give you an update on my Dad’s cancer journey and our journey with him: 

A week ago last Friday we went for my Dad’s MRI to see how all the treatments have been working on the Glioblastoma in his brain. It is typical to wait a month between treatment and scans, so any irritation and inflammation can mostly subside.

This last Monday, we sat in his neuro-oncologist’s office, while she interpreted the results. And while we would’ve liked for her to say that the cancer was miraculously and altogether gone, she did say that the tumors have shrunk and that there is no sign of enhanced profusion, which means the cancer is not trying to find the blood supply necessary to proliferate. Great news! Thank You, Lord!

So next steps are to continue with treatment, including all our healthy, at-home concoctions, and have blood work once per month and an MRI every two months. This will help us keep tabs on what we pray will continue to be an increasingly positive report.

As far as mobility and other issues that had initially impacted my Dad because of the location of the tumors, he has continued to make huge strides. In fact, his Physical Therapist looked at me with wide eyes of amazement when he last walked in front of her. No cane needed!

And yet, in all this progress, your prayers continue to be greatly coveted. Please pray for continued healing, for death to the cancer cells and for complete remission! We’d love to hear an “all clear” at one of his upcoming appointments, in that there is no evidence of disease whatsoever. Wouldn’t that be amazing? Also, please be praying that any damage that may have initially occurred to the right side of his brain, which impacts the left side of his body, would be healed. He’d love to swing a golf club again some day.

Like so many, we are staying put for the holidays, gathering in tiny groups, and making the most of this most unusual holiday season. And we will most certainly continue to keep everyone posted, as you have been so faithful to pray and encourage our hearts. 

So…friends, if you’re feeling weary like me, hear Jesus’ invitation.

“Come to me.”

Not once you have it altogether or once you’ve tidied yourself up. But right now.

Just sit beside Him. Breathe in. Breathe out.

Laugh. Cry. Be angry. Be joyful. Be confused. Be weary.

Just be. Be with Him. We’re invited!

The best company in the world, He is the only cure for our soul’s pandemic. 

With Love & Gratitude,

Shannon