What do you do when you’re bone weary?

The phone on my nightstand sounds an alarm at 5:30 a.m. 

I’m not ready.

I swipe, and then I sleep.

Until 5:45 when my second alarm sounds.

I rub my eyes, say hello to God, and slowly peel away the blankets. It’s cold, and climbing out of the warm cocoon I have built overnight is just about the last thing I want to do.

As I begin to sit up I realize that I am not refreshed, but weary. Bone weary.

As I slowly trek across my bedroom floor toward the shower, I run through my day—all the “shoulds,” all the “need tos,” all the “must dos” race to the forefront of my mind, and the weariness that has enveloped my soul for months wraps its tentacles around my heart yet again.

Being tired isn’t the same thing. I’m not tired, really. My mind is racing, so I couldn’t lie down and sleep some more.

No, it’s just a weariness that has seeped into my bones and into my heart that won’t let me go.

Is this what getting older feels like?

I’m fighting. I do not want weariness to be my hallmark. I do not want to be one of those people who, when asked how I’m doing remarks, “Oh, I’m O.K. I’m just tired.”

Who wants to be around that?

There’s nothing wrong with me, physically; the myriad of doctors I visited this summer assured me of that.

It’s just this soul-sucking weariness that has taken over, and I must figure out how to get rid of it because the truth is, life isn’t going to change. This pace that we have chosen is not going to stop.

The ministry we have, the places we serve, the family we love all bring me to the same place: my life is amazing.

So why do I feel so worn out?

Honestly, I have no answers.

Burdens are burdens and some are not meant to be shared, but we carry them every day.

Life is life and it is meant to be lived, but some days I’d just like the roller coaster to stop its ups and downs.

Work is work and it is fulfilling, but some days I’d like someone else to step in and do it for me.

What’s the solution? Where is the relief? When will it come?

I think the answer is found the moment I am awakened by my alarm: open your eyes.

I think of the story in the Bible of the man who was born blind. I’m sure he was weary, tired of begging for crumbs, exhausted before he even woke up every morning. Then one day, Jesus sees him and miraculously heals him, and everyone keeps asking him, “Who opened your eyes?” His immediate answer: “Jesus.”

My alarm should truly alarm me. Am I opening my eyes to the burdens of the day or am I opening them to Jesus, who, by the way, has offered to carry those burdens for me?

Am I waking to thoughts of my creaking bones or thoughts of the One who truly sees me?

Am I living in life-giving gratitude or in life-sucking negativity?

This is my reminder to myself today: Open your eyes. See Jesus.