Distance to Empty

My minivan has a kickin’ feature (anytime I can use the words “kickin'” and “minivan in the same sentence I try to ’cause it makes me giggle) that allows you to see how many miles you have left before you run out of gas. I hit it tonight and watched the miles tick down until a little star appeared at the 5 mile mark. I was kind of curious to see if I would really sputter out and stop after 5 more miles, but then realized my cell phone battery was dead and it’s 57 degrees outside and thought better of it. I quickly pulled into the nearest Shell station and put a little gas in the van. My car seemed happy about that.

As I drove on, I got to thinking about that little DTE button. I wish I had one of those. I wish I had a meter that told me exactly how much longer I had before I was completely empty. Instead, I’m like a clunky old VW with a screwy odometer and definately no DTE. I go, go, go until I suddenly seem to spit, sputter and came to a shuddering stop (how’s that for a little alliteration?). That happened to me today. I hit empty and I hit it hard. Unfortunately, the people who suffer most when I hit empty are my family. I’m just tired. And that’s not their fault. It’s mine. And now I’m tired and I’ve got a big old heap of mommy guilt to go on top of it. I was not a good mommy today. I was bad mommy. The kind of mommy that kids write books about when they get older. The Mommy Dearest kind of mommy (shudder). Maybe I wasn’t that bad. I didn’t beat anyone. I didn’t use a single four letter word…at least not out loud. But the tone of my voice was scary and the volume was louder than it needed to be. It’s not that they were being impossible, they were just being kids…and a husband. I hit empty. And when you’re on empty, there’s no jump starting the car to dodge the oncoming traffic. You sit there and wait for it to hit you. And my kids stink at dodging. Again, not because they’re little terrors, but because they’re kids. They seem to hit me while I’m down every time. A little trivia for you: Did you know that a car, though completely lifeless and empty, will still explode when hit at the right angle? I have no idea if that’s a fact or not, but it works well with my allegory. Most days I handle their little shenanigans well – but those are the days when I’m full, or at least have a little to keep me going.

I have just pushed too hard, for way too long. I’m tired physically. Just really, really tired. I feel like I’ll never be not tired again. I’m tired emotionally. Not because there’s anything super emotional happening in my life but because I’m so frustrated with myself and that makes me emotional. I can’t help it. I’m a girl. And, perhaps most importantly, I’m tired spiritually. I miss God. It’s not Him who left me – I’ve drifted from Him. Thus the big fat E staring me in the face right now. I’m tired. I so, so tired. And so I’ve decided to take the day tomorrow and fill up my tank. I need to be filled with the Spirit. I need to pour scripture into my weary body and allow Him to recharge me. I also need to fill up my kids’ love tanks. I’ve not loved them well these last few days. I need to speak grace into my husband who has been oh so patient with me these last few months. I will probably not post tomorrow. I need a day away from the computer, away from the television, away from everything that I substitute for the one thing that truly fills me up. I need a day to be filled. I’m posting something I wrote a couple of years ago when I reached a similar place in my life. I was pregnant with Tia and had terrible insomnia. I slept 2-3 hours/night and was not handling that well. These are the words the Lord spilled through my fingers into my journal. I sing them softly to myself tonight. I do not share this to beg for encouragement, though I always welcome that. I share it because it’s a way of holding myself accountable. And now, off I go to sleep and recharge my physical batteries.