The Trouble with Buffets

Still so many voices calling . . . so many hands reaching, pulling me in different directions.
Still I am straining to hear the One voice that matters.

My house is a wreck. My feet hurt. I haven’t had free time in who knows how long. And I wonder what I am doing . . .

The night shift is a wonderful shift for a new nurse. Just the right pace for learning. I am so grateful for this time.  And truly I have found a great place to work. But still. It is hard on my mind/body. I have no energy for cleaning. No time for errands or friends. Or so it seems.

And I hear His voice. “Balance,” He says to me. Easy does it. One small step at a time.

But the seconds tick-by, and I feel like my heart beats a little faster with each of those passing seconds . . . wondering if I will ever get where I want before it’s too late. I don’t want to miss a single thing while I’m trying to get where I’m going.  I don’t want to miss my children growing, or the life events and small moments of my friends and family . . .  I don’t want to miss family dinners or cuddle time on the couch, church gatherings and outreaches and party invites . . .   I want to do it all. Now.

Balance.

Such a beautiful word. Why is it so hard for me?  What good is this life I am carving out if there is no room for living out what I believe my greater purpose to be?

I have memories of homeschooling my kids. A clean house. Sitting down to read with them for hours. Playing in the backyard. Home cooked meals. I will cherish those memories forever. Priceless. I still laugh when I remember that some people told me not to do it. Told me I shouldn’t postpone my nursing degree to homeschool for a bit. These days I absolutely draw on those memories for joy and strength, and certainly I am a better woman (wife, mother, nurse) because of that time.

But I felt tHis push to move on. And here I am. Wondering what God is up to . . . why I am here. What is He saying to me and what will I do about it?

Finding balance is today’s calling. And somewhere I know, maybe (okay, probably) I make it harder than it needs to be.  The more I lean on Christ, the more He makes room for my days, leading me through them. What gets done, gets done. What doesn’t . . . well, okay.

Oh Jesus, my perfect example. He had the whole world in front of his eyes. Fully God, and fully man. He could have given in to pressure to walk farther, reach more people, do more miracles . . . . but He was the picture of thoughtful living. Every step guided by His Father. Just enough. And everything He did reeked of love because of it.

I’ll end here with two highlights to my night shift routine. Fairly soon after I start shift and get report, a chaplain comes on the overhead speaker and asks us to join him in a moment of prayer. If at all possible, I will stop what I am doing and breathe deep, agreeing with the minister as he prays for a good night of sleep for the patients, for healing, and for the hands that are helping. It’s just a moment. But it reminds me why I am there.

The second highlight comes a little later, around 10pm every night. My daughter will send me a text, wishing me Good-Night in her own special way – with nicknames or emoji’s or sweet words. “Good night, Mama. I love you with all my little heart.” And I melt.

Lord, thank you for where I am today.  Help me find your kind of Balance.

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