Strength Not My Own
The work of motherhood and a productive household are exhausting vocations. There are some nights I get into bed and wonder how in the world I’ll have strength to do it all again the next day. But even so, the sun rises. The coffee brews hot. The mercies are new. The Lord gives to His beloved sleep and a supply of fresh manna each morning. But it doesn’t keep overnight.
One evening recently while I was particularly tired and hungry— a combination that can only be explained by my 12 month old who still sleeps and nurses like a newborn—I sat on the patio to read my Bible. 2 Corinthians 6 happened to be next in my reading. “…as servants of God we commend ourselves in every way: by great endurance, in afflictions, hardships, calamities, beatings, imprisonments, friots, labors, sleepless nights, hunger; purity, knowledge, patience, kindness, the Holy Spirit…”
Sleepless nights and hunger! My hunger and sleepless nights look nothing like Paul’s I’m sure, but what an encouragement to know I too will be given the strength to endure. This is good work. And praise God He gives us difficult things to do!
“And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that having all sufficiency in all things at all times, you may abound in every good work. As it is written, “He has distributed freely, he has given to the poor; his righteousness endures forever.” He who supplies seed to the sower and bread for food will supply and multiply your seed for sowing and increase the harvest of your righteousness. You will be enriched in every way to be generous in every way, which through us will produce thanksgiving to God.”
These days I often think something I heard from Nancy Wilson awhile back: It isn’t a sin to be tired. It’s actually a reminder of my creatureliness, and something to be thankful for, because it means my days are full and rich. It’s a thousand chances daily to rely on strength not my own. This is the kind of exhaustion that the Lord blesses. It’s far different from lethargy, which I know all too well from other seasons past, and that I fear too many in our culture today live in the thick of. The kind that comes from unhealthy media consumption and a lack of meaningful work. I am certain that everyone needs their own version of “making pickles” these days, to stay sane. Mine just happens to be, literally making pickles.
“You have no right to say — ‘O Lord, I am so exhausted.’ He saved and sanctified you in order to exhaust you. Be exhausted for God, but remember that your supply comes from Him. ‘All my fresh springs shall be in Thee’”
My summer planting of cucumbers along with a few onions from the amish nearby have yielded almost 4 gallons of pickles for my “refrigerator root cellar.” Classic dill, made with homegrown garlic and dill, my favorite bread and butter, and classic sweet pickles. I have one last harvest that I may make into relish instead. The cucumber plants are now brown and wilted and ready to rip out. I might attempt a fall planting of peas where I have the trellises.
I have not had any time to do any sort of pest management or weeding since spring, but I am still enjoying the beauty of the garden despite the mess. Green beans are getting stored in the freezer, tulsi is being brewed into tea, and I can’t help but bring bouquet after bouquet of flowers into the house each week.
In November last year I planted this garlic with a 4 month old baby asleep on my chest, and this July I harvested it from the ground with him asleep on my back. It felt like such a full circle moment. And now I have over 40 bulbs braided and bundled for my winter pantry and this autumn’s planting. Baby will be thrilled to help me put the cloves in the ground this year.
Those have been the joys of my July. Now we are into August—my favorite month. The golden month. The month that begins the start of so much to anticipate and savor. The Lord truly does “crown the year with His bounty” (Psalm 65:11). May this season be filled with “magnifying His name from whose bounty all this goodness flows.”
August blessings to you.
—Kaetlyn