The scene: Little guy doesn't want to go to bed. He's scared, or so he says.
New mother
With genuine concern, mom scoops up her little dear, and coos sweet soothing things in his ear.
Wise mother
She is attentive and mildly concerned, but for her child’s
good, she remains calm and cheerful as she comforts him, but also gives him firm direction to stay in bed. She knows that teaching her child to be tough is even
better for him than offering a bandaid for every scrape.
Sucked-dry mother
Little guy screams, and mama’s teeth clench. She takes a
deep breath and tries to fake proper compassion but she is obviously annoyed by the tears, the child, everything.
Mother #3 has compassion fatigue.
And all too often I am her. The children press in on me with their needs,
their (mostly) legitimate needs. And I
try to meet them, and I fail, and I resent and pout about my failure. And still they need, and it is impossible,
unfair, too much.
All too often it is not the situation itself that is so
difficult.
It’s how poorly I
am handling it.
I trip over my failures, and make yet another mess that I
have to clean up.
At this moment, I am writing my way through one such day.
I need to breathe, to get my bearings.
What is true about
this situation?
Not how to do I feel, but what is true?
The truth: There are
several children in my house, at various ages and with various needs. We just
got back from vacation and life is in chaos. My husband is sick in bed. In
short, my job is hard. My list is long, and my day is demanding.
I feel like this should be easier, though.. if only the kids
were more cooperative, or if only I had more patience. But the truth is that we are all sinners, and
life is messy, and no one small fix is going to change that. The truth is also
that sometimes this very same situation would be easy for me. The truth is my
body is tired, my house is a mess, and I have handicaps with me already as I
begin to face this challenging day.
The truth: They need
grace. I need grace. We need Jesus.
The truth: We have Jesus.
I am accepted in Him, not because of what I do, but because of how much he
loves.
Though this is a hard day, His grace is sufficient.
I look for his
provision of green pastures and relief. They may not come right when I ask for
them, but He will provide help. He cares for me, even on days that are hard.
I will pray for sanity and help, and for perspective when the walls seem to be closing in on us. I will ask His help in fighting resentment and frustration. I will ask for his help
in dealing with the interruptions, that I may see them not as personal attacks
but as tasks assigned by Him, for which He will equip me.
The truth: What I need for the rest of this day, I do not
have to find inside myself.
He strengthens,
He helps, He does the verbs.
May
you be strengthened with all power, according to his glorious might,
for all endurance and patience with joy,
giving thanks to the Father, who
has qualified you
to share in the inheritance of the saints in
light.
He has delivered us from the domain of darkness
and
transferred us to the kingdom of his beloved Son,
in whom we
have redemption, the forgiveness of sins.
(col 1)
Patience, endurance, joy, not as much as I can find in my
heart, nor given in accordance with my own goodness, but given as the Father
loves to give- by grace alone.
And abundantly- in
portions according to HIS glorious might.
God is good, even when my day is not.
Father,
Today, my job is hard, and yet it feels ridiculous
admitting this is so. I do not suffer as one persecuted, or sick, or under
severe trial. I do not suffer like Jesus. And yet, this job in front of me is
too much, too hard for my sinful nature to bear. I react in selfishness, I run out of love and compassion
when compassion is still needed by those around me. Have mercy, Lord, and strengthen me according
to Your might and power. Deliver me from
the darkness of my own heart, forgive me, and renew me.
In the name of Jesus and according to Your Word,
Amen
Suffering from compassion fatigue today?
this was the first thing I saw this morning. after having a battle of my own to fight. We have a medical crisis here and It's all I can do not to fall apart
ReplyDeleteIn fact I think I should be learning from this but it's taken me three weeks just to pick my eyes up and figure that much out.
Oh Annemarie I am sorry to hear this... he will carry you one day, one hour at a time. Prayers for you this morning...
Deletebe weak and loved.
Hello from Dakotapam's site! This is all too true a reality for moms. Love your honesty, love the post. :)
ReplyDelete