I am tired. I am bone tired, which I don't really know what that means, but it sounds more dramatic than exhausted and it makes me feel like my grandma. I am tired of having too much to do, and too many people to take care of. I am tired of living on a budget and buying generic groceries. I am tired of being pregnant (almost 33 weeks of my body belonging to Baby Joshua). I am tired of my husband working late, tired of random socks being in my mini van, tired of bedtime/bathtime wars, tired of homework, tired of driving and tired of feeling so dang tired. I am tired. I want to put my head on my pillow, and lay down to sleep. Till I wake up. Could be an hour. Might be a year.
I am tired. And it is almost Christmas.
I worked yesterday at a Christmas store for the parents of Generation One Academy in Houston's 3rd Ward. There was a team in the morning who set up, and a couple of rockstar ladies who organized what seemed like mountains of toys, books and underwear into shopping areas. There was a group of us who stayed the rest of the day, and waited for parents to arrive so we could help them shop, and attempt to wrap their presents. It is hard to wrap a basketball.
I had prayed on the drive down...prayed with our little group before we opened the store...prayed as we waited between shoppers...prayed. But I was tired, and I couldn't even keep my focus on Jesus because my focus was on the brickwall I felt like I was hitting in every aspect of my life...letting myself complain just a little...thinking I wish someone knew how tired I was.
It has been an amazing year, but I don't know that I can do much more. I haven't even Christmas shopped for my own family, gotten stuff ready for my kiddos school parties, pulled teacher gifts out of thin air yet...Will I ever get back to me??? Will I ever get back to sweating the small stuff so I can look and feel like the perfect person again??? My house is a mess. My kids are not going to receive 400,000 pounds of crap if I don't get on the ball. I'm tired of this...I want some pettiness...I want some hot coco and whipped cream and stupid Christmas commercials that make me cry. I'm tired of caring more than I have ever cared about children and their families and poverty and women coming to see Jesus and prayer and hope and tiny faces that smile and smile through pain. I'm tired. What happened to the good old days where you just did a Bible Study and felt better about yourself???
In my chair, trying to keep my feet elevated to stop the amazing cankles I have developed, I was sitting and sorting smaller toys. Thinking of lots of nothing. We were in the community center, and people who worked there kept popping their heads in to see what we were up to. We would explain, and they would tell us that it was great. Another woman stuck her head in, and I told her to come on in. She asked the same question, and I began to explain...talked a little about Generation One...she asked how I was involved, and I began to tell her, in a nutshell, about the lunches and how they began. I'm telling her about my plans versus Jesus' plans in this crazy adventure, and I start to cry. She starts to cry too. I tell her about the Christmas store...how the parents give a donation to a ministry in Kenya or bring canned goods, and then shop for their children...we talk about how special it is. She asks who donates all the lunches and toys and books and time...what church is responsible?
I say, "It is Jesus." Because it was. And it is.
There has not been one church or organization...it has come from all over...Jesus did this. This woman, whom I have now hugged and told her that I love her, begins to say,
"This is your cup running over...your cup runneth over..."
And she says it again and again. And the words are tearing down the brick wall of tired complaints. And my cup is broken and spilling all over everywhere because Jesus has filled it so full that it burst. My cup runneth over.
I am a nightshift shepherd.
I often think about those shepherds that first Christmas night. They were working the nightshift. They were the tired men and boys who watched sheep at night, as sheep slept and they did not. I imagine them to be sleepy shepherds, working a job that did not allow for the common comforts of a bed at your house. Maybe there was a good rotation going, and everyone took turns working the nightshift on occassion, but whether it was their permanent job or not, they were the sleepy ones that particular night. There job was important and necessary, to watch over sleeping sheep that needed protection and rest. But I would imagine there may have been one or two nightshift shepherds guarding the flock who wanted to just go back home and be comfortable and cozy...
God loves shepherds. Jesus called himself the good shepherd. King David was raised as a shepherd before he would sit on the throne of Israel. Jesus talks about shepherds going to rescue the one sheep gone astray. God loves shepherds.
So, the weary shepherd that first Christmas night saw the sky break open and heard the sound of Angels singing:
"Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests." Luke 2:14
The weary shepherds were the first to see Baby Jesus, our Savior. They would praise and glorify God that night. They would tell others what had been shown to them. Their bone tired cups were running over. Their cups ran over with news of the Messiah. Their cups ran over with a baby wrapped in cloths in a manger...where they were WELCOME to come and see Jesus...sit and look at the face of Jesus...and the outpouring was praise and joy.
So my cup runneth over with joy and praise. In the face of poverty and brokeness, people are coming to see Jesus. All are welcome...even the complaining nightshift shepherd...to come see what Jesus can do. He can turn a dark night into a heavenly concert, a manger into a church and a tired woman into a Broken Cup.
"...You anoint my head with oil;
my cup overflows." Psalm 23:5
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