Children were unhappy with the breakfast menu, fights erupted from out of the bunny dwelling, computer games wouldn't work properly, a guinea pig with a cold resulted in a child crying over it's impeding doom (which I have heard about all weekend...with many a tear shed), dishes screamed impatiently from the kitchen sink, another child bit her tongue while chewing gum. And at 10:04 a.m. Eastern Standard Time, it happened. A mom ran out of her allotted sympathy for the day. After I separated quarrelling bunnies, did the dishes, reassured children and finished the last, cold sip of my coffee, I retreated upstairs to find clean clothing to wear for the day. With a child lagging behind me, still chit-chatting dramatically about the impending doom of the ill guinea pig, and the possible effects and devastation caused by separating sister bunnies. I closed my bedroom door behind me, signaling that I was done any conversation concerning any animals in our home. I felt suffocated. Out of air, and needing room to breathe. My sympathy had run dry. I proceeded to take a good, long time choosing my wardrobe for the day. Then I quietly snuck downstairs to the bathroom to have a shower. A nice, long, hot shower. With frequent interruptions. As I inhaled and exhaled slowly and deeply I acknowledged that I had no sympathy left for the remainder of the day. And I felt guilty. In the few brief moments of silence in the shower, I struggled to breathe in God, and breathe out self. Guilt, however, can be all consuming. That's when the ever still, ever quiet voice of God spoke to the very core of my spirit.
(After Jesus was finished the miracle of feeding five thousand) "He slipped away into the hills by himself." (John 6:15)
(After performing many miracles)"Before daybreak the next morning, Jesus got up and went out to an isolated place to pray." (Mark 1:35)
(After healing many people) "Early the next morning Jesus went to an isolated place." (Luke 4:38)
This very thought of purposed aloneness occurred to me. (I'm pretty sure it's alright to have moments of spiritual enlightenment while in the buff. I hope.) I find it interesting that the apostles chose to put those simple sentences in the Bible. They are so tiny and minute...yet speak volumes. Christ purposed to have time alone. It isn't always stated exactly why, but a mother can't help but ponder. As it so happens, each chosen moment of isolation happens right after Jesus has been busy giving of himself. Healing, teaching, preaching. I can't even imagine the pressing needs that people would come to Him with. The constant cries for help. Everywhere He turned someone needed something. And not little things, like a tissue or a snack, clean underwear or permission to use the computer. No, people surrounding Him needed in a huge way. I wonder if He ever had moments where He felt suffocated...and needed room to breathe. Seeing how He was so anguished in the garden before His death, I can't help but think maybe, just maybe He did. I could be completely off my theological rocker there, but the moment that very thought occurred to me, I felt comforted. Because I know that the demands on me and my time are so minimal in comparison.
As mothers and wives we have so many needs pulling and pushing us. We don't have the luxury calling in sick and taking the day to read a good book in our jammies. Life is often full and unpredictable. It is so easy to feel overwhelmed, suffocated and spent. That should be the first signal that we need to follow Christ's example and spend time alone. To make room to breathe. Room to pray.
As a side note, the Lord does in fact have a sense of humor. Just thought you should know. While at Goodwill today, I crossed paths with a tea box that had a rather enlightening statement:
Women are like a good tea. You never know how strong one is until she's brewing in hot water.
Mmm. True. No? I believe my brew is finished. Now, pass the sugar, please, and sweeten me up.
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