In Bible study, this passage from Philippians came up a few weeks ago:
[Christ,] who, though he was in the form of God, did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men.
I was convicted in that moment of how much energy I put into not being emptied, how I try to arrange my days (and life) around saving time or energy or my attention for myself rather than being poured out for the sake of those around me.
Today was not one of those days.
Today, I let myself be poured out. I poured into my kids, my home, my work, my husband, then each of those things again at least once plus a friend who needed to talk through something.
And after all of that pouring out, I feel empty. Drained and exhausted.
Unlike Christ, I cannot take up my own life and strength again when I choose to. My body is weak and requires rest, and my brain–the one that’s talked through a friend’s struggle and a 4-year-old’s Lego battles and how many sentences the 3rs grader’s report has to be–needs to download and process the day.
And so, I head toward bed proud of a full day, imperfect as it was, but in awe of the God who needs no rest. And thankful that he will still be holding me while I give into the rest I need.
What a good, good God to serve.