Exhaustion and a Dry Oasis

Lesson: Learning That I Can’t Find Water in a Dry Oasis

As I write this, I have to admit that I’m tired. No. Exhausted. Sick of preaching the same sermon, writing the same song.

Next week is Mother’s Day, and if you assumed this would be a difficult time for me, clearly, you’d be correct. However, I highly doubt you know the real reason why. I miss my mom, yes. But I expect to miss her every day for the rest of my life. I can heal, and in many ways I have; however, that fact will never change. 

So why is this such a difficult time for me?

The Exhaustion

Sundays are long, hectic days for me. Between multiple jobs and extra gigs, I’ve worked every day for the past month. I’m not complaining. I have to find a way to occupy my time, and if I don’t have anyone to spend it with, I work. 

But after such an exhausting month and after a difficult weekend, I started to catch up on text messages. And in the middle of that, I realized that every single message was me checking up on someone, ministering in some way, pouring out. The funny thing: Not one of those messages led to reciprocation. Not one “What about you?” Not one “What’s going on in your life?” Not one expression of care or presence. 

I continue to learn a lot about people. Sadly, a lot that I don’t admire despite being unreasonably in love with God’s people. But I deeply desire to see God. To see him in a new way. A very specific way. 

A Heart-wrenching Story

There’s a story in the Bible that made its way into all three synoptic gospels. It’s in Matthew chapter 8 and Luke chapter 8, but I really love the wording in Mark 4. Jesus’s disciples are in a boat crossing a sea (at Jesus’s command mind you). A storm arises, and they, like most people would, start to lose their minds. Oddly enough, they find Jesus in the stern of the boat, and he’s sleeping.

When they woke him up, they asked him the very question I find myself asking him today, “Don’t you care that we’re going to die?” Jesus’s response isn’t anything you’d expect. He responds to them as if they’re the ones having an abnormal reaction to the storm. “Why are you afraid? Do you still have no faith?”

This says to me that there was never a reason for the disciples to lose their minds because Jesus was in the storm with them, and his presence assumes safety. But I left out part of the story. Before scolding the disciples, Jesus, like a loving, kind-hearted, tender yet ferocious friend, screams at the storm, “Silence! Be still!” And the storm ceased.

A Tender God

If the disciples were safe the entire time, why did Jesus decide to calm the storm? I won’t pretend like I have THE answer. The Bible doesn’t tell us why he calmed the storm. But what this says to me is that although there was no need for the disciples to be afraid, Jesus cared about their emotional state enough to move in a way he didn’t need to. Just to bring peace to the ones he loved.

That’s how I find myself desiring to see God move. If I’m honest, there are things I’ve longed for my entire life. Things that I seem to get a front row seat to look at and watch other people enjoy what I can’t have. That’s exactly what happened to me today. It’s one thing for a prayer to not be answered with a yes; it’s a completely different thing to constantly be put in unique situations where you get to watch the very thing you desire get taken away and enjoyed by others.

Like I said, I’m exhausted. I haven’t been perfect, but I’ve been faithful. And yet, I know that God owes me nothing. I know what I truly deserve. But I also know of God’s special gift. The gift he desires to give to his children whom he loves. And I long not to know, but to feel that same grace that I see extended to others. 

The Oasis

I’ve written enough long posts pleading for the same thing. Begging readers to be different, to be perceptive, to be an honest friend, to be present — ultimately, to be like Paul and actually become something for the sake of someone who might need you. 

I never answered my initial question: I’m having a hard time in life right now not just because I miss my mom, but because she saw me when no one else did, she’d hurt with me, she cared how I was doing, she’d listen, and she’d want to talk to me or be around me just because. 

I’ll end with a few questions: What if someone around you needs you to just be present with them? What if someone around you needs you to care enough to ask questions? What if someone around you just … needs you? Paul’s words in 1 Corinthians 9: “I become…” Who or what do you become for that person? Do you express affection? Do you love at all?