I got nothing.
I wake up each morning with nothing to offer anyone. I feel a weight on my chest, the absence of hope and the haunting presence of utter helplessness. How can I get through another day? One influencer says to make a list of three things—just three things—to get done, but I’m struggling to imagine how I will pour cereal in bowls without losing it. Can I convince them to play the silent game for the rest of the morning? To abandon the need for a certain bowl, spoon, or mix of grains? To dial down the volume of their questions, silly banter, laughter, and complaints? Because sometimes it seems my peace is wrapped up in how content they are and how much they are willing to leave me alone.
Between a shifting pelvic floor that wreaks havoc on my hips and my treacherous hormones, I sometimes feel more sick than sinful. Sure, anxiety can be a sign of not trusting God, but not always. Outbursts of anger are wrong, but let's not forget the outbursts of the demented elderly. We show them compassion. Let's show ourselves grace. While it's not the same thing, graciousness in these moments helps us remember that our brains are struggling right now. It's not all black and white. There is sin mixed up in our behavior, but there's also weakness, human frailty. And in both cases we have good news.