I am so tired.
Bone weary, tail dragging, just-want-to-go-to-sleep tired.
My eyes can hardly stay open, but they have to. Through work. Through children. Through outside commitments.
The week is filled with promises of where I need to be and the things that I need to do. And looking forward, I see a season that is often defined by the hustle and bustle.
I can’t help but think back to the reason for this season that began unspectacularly with the birth of a baby in a barn.
I imagine that Mary was a might bit more tired than I was. Here she was, so pregnant that she could deliver any day, being forced to travel to another town. Her bones probably ached from hours of walking or sitting stiffly upon a donkey.
Did she try to stave off the exhaustion by sleeping along the side of the dusty road? Was she able to get in a nap before the savior of the world would arrive so unceremoniously?
And as that weariness continued to grow, they come to Bethlehem – all full for the night. All she wants to do is rest – just a moment of rest. Once the baby arrives, as most mothers know, the rest will never come.
Here the town is crowded. All hotels hang a “no vacancy” sign.
No place to rest.
And now, she feels the pains. This baby is coming. There has to be someplace for this baby to be born.
How much must her exhaustion have increased when the only place they could find to rest and bring her child into the world was a barn? Can you even imagine? We worry about hand washing and keeping germs at bay, and here is the mother of our Lord, lying among filthy animals in the hay – more tired than we’ll ever know.
But I imagine that through the pain and inability to sleep comes the wondrous moment where you hear a child’s cry. A new life has come. And even in my most tired states of delivering my own children, that was one of the most joyful, tender moments of love in my life.
The tiredness was wiped away when love interrupted.
Love in the form of a baby.
Love in the form of a savior.
Love in the form of God incarnate.
In my own throes of weariness, I can rest in that love. In that peace that passes all understanding. I can come as someone weary and burdened, and that Love will give me rest (Matt. 11:28).
Today, I am praying for the love of Jesus to interrupt my tiredness….my heart….my soul. Fill me with joy in this season.