Shelter, again

Today I feel lousy and puny and inadequate. My head hurts and I’m tired and chilled. I got out of bed and moved to the recliner to sleep some more. Got up and made a bit of breakfast, then back to the chair. I’m not really sick, just completely wiped out, with a headache.

I look around me and see all the things I could be doing–all the things that need to be done. I know the kids can do them for me. I know it really doesn’t matter if they are done late or done right or done at all. I understand that I am in a season of rest and healing, but none of this helps. You see, I don’t have to do these things; I want to.

I love being a wife and a mom. Homemaking is my favorite thing in all the world. It’s one of God’s purposes and gifts in my life. So, when I see things undone or being done by others, it’s hard. The enemy sees my struggle and takes aim. He tells me I’m not really unable to do things–I’m being lazy or dramatic. He says I wasn’t a great housekeeper even before I got sick. He tells me people are judging me based on how many cobwebs are in the corners and how much grit is on my windows. Somehow, there is pressure to do all and be all, even while fighting cancer.

I’m going to drown out the voice of my enemy and run to the shelter of the Most High. Peace and rest are the order of the day.

He who dwells in the shelter of the Most High will abide in the shadow of the Almighty. I will say to the Lord, “My refuge and my fortress my God, in who I trust.” Psalm 91:1-2