Personally, I find this leads to the indulgence of mind-numbing behavior in the rare moments I have to myself because I don't feel like I have even an ounce of energy left to pour into the development of my internal emotional, mental, and spiritual development. My investment in spiritual growth wanes and my pursuit of things that energize me gets put on hold, and slowly I begin to drift, feeling lost in the sea of my exhaustion and suddenly a stranger to myself. It is then that I become full of guilt and resentment and impatience.
I've found myself drifting again recently, feeling empty and without the emotional reserves needed to respond to the challenges inherent in the day. We've had a few really awful days at our house recently and I've felt like a caged beast (an exhausted and insane Momzilla) trapped with other little caged beasts just trying to survive. Today, however, I ran out the door to Panera Bread as if my life depended on it, leaving my husband and children waving on the porch, to whom (I guiltily realized later) I didn't even turn and wave to as I sped down the block.
I took my Bible and my laptop and claimed my favorite back corner booth to slowly start to row for shore. I read in Psalm 73 where it says, "How good it is to be near God," and admitted to myself and God that I wasn't drawing near and I hadn't been filled with that feeling of goodness. Usually I feel guilty and sort of helpless as I try to muster the strength to change, but today God reminded me of mercy. In Eugene Peterson's A Long Obedience in the Same Direction he writes that we can come to God as children who are loved. Even though we can't comprehend the fullness of God, we never have to draw near to him wondering what we will get in return, for "We know very well what to expect, and what we expect is mercy."
He is a good and merciful father--my father. I am his child. Too often, in the face of the draining list of my children's (and the rest of life's) needs, I forget that I have a father to whom I can bring all of my needs, who never grows weary of hearing "Dad, Dad, Dad...."
The hope for the Introverted Mother is the mercy of God, our heavenly father, our refuge in the onslaught of constant sibling bickering, our strength to answer one more "Why?" and our grace when we feel we are running on fumes for the bedtime routine. He is our shelter in the never ending chaos, a calm place where we can once again find the self he made us to be. It is good to be near God, a position, which if we let it, will gently pull our exhausted selves deeper still into enough mercy to cover it all.
