It took me a long time to realize this, but I am worth more than leftovers.
I can and should lay down my rights for yours and forgive seventy times seven and give my life for a brother,
there’s sacrificial giving and then there’s self-sacrificing living,
and there’s a fine line between the two.
When I am depleted and resentful and can’t remember what feeling rested feels like, I have crossed that line. Maybe I didn’t see it coming, or maybe I did but I wanted to keep going, to roll up my sleeves and make it happen, in spite of the warning lights flashing inside.
But I can’t make everything happen.
I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me, but he never intended for me to do ALL THINGS.
I can come alongside you when you have a heavy burden, but I can’t carry it for you.
Just like you can’t carry mine.
We are in this together, and we are stronger together, but we are not the masters of the universe.
Thankfully, that has never been our job.
The sun does not rise and set on our ability to make it happen. If that were the case, we would all be stumbling around in the dark. We are weak and finite. We are designed to need rest. To recharge and regroup and refresh.
To run off more than leftovers.
We have leftover night at our house every single week. We gather all the week’s offerings and then pick out what we’re going to nuke and call it dinner. There’s nothing wrong with second-class nourishment once in a while, but if this is all we had to live on, day after day, it would get really old really fast.
So why do I think I can live like that with my time and my energy, and even my emotions?
I need to be served first, at least some of the time.
For me, this means I need to get up a little earlier so I can pray more. Change my work schedule so I can exercise more. Say no to some things so I can say yes to other things.
And then what I bring to the table will be fresh and inviting, the best of what I have to offer.
And while that may not always be easy and comfortable, it will always serve us best.
You and me both.