Emotionally...done.

Been a hard day.

Not because of things around me...

The kids have been sweet and mindful. Quinn is, of course, wonderful and helpful.

It's just me. 

Emotionally tired, with no emotional reserve to meet anything...

A woman in my old ward once said that, if she was to be in a pioneer company, she would have wanted to cross the plains with me..."because you are so strong." ("Built for hard labor" as it says in "Ever After"...)  I just keep going.

And I do.  I keep going.  I feel the fruits of work, see the chaos that happens when I choose not to, and feel the joy of being "anxiously engaged."  However, I guess the events of the last week combined with just being 38 weeks along in a new country, trying to maintain has just finally sapped my reserves.  And, maybe it's just "my time of the month" :), eh, Quinn?  Sometimes, I get tired of being strong. :S

For instance, this morning, as we were lumbering quickly to church (well, I was lumbering), I thought, "There is no way I am going to run for a train today.   I will be an hour late to church...I just cannot make myself lumber any faster right now."  So what happens?  The train pulls up a few minutes early, and we get to hurry.  Fortunately, Quinn ran ahead and stalled his way on, so I could cross the tracks and get on. Without a fast lumber. Normally, I can just mentally push myself and do it.  Not today, apparently.

All through church, if anyone was slightly nice, the words to a hymn even remotely applicable to me, or, really, if a crayon fell on the floor and I felt too overwhelmed to pick it up, it seemed to open the floodgates of tears.  Awesome womanliness :).

During Sunday School, we talked about being like the Savior, and the teacher asked the question, "How can we be like Jesus?"  Of course, it was in Hungarian, so I wasn't going to reply aloud and disrupt the flow by having someone translate for me, but it made me think.  I came to the conclusion that, to truly be like Jesus, it is to find out the will of God and to do it.  Think of Gethsemane, and that poignant plea to heaven, "Let this cup pass,...nevertheless, not my will, but Thine be done..." Was there ever a more defining moment of the Savior's ministry than at that moment?

It made me think about bending my will to His, and how, sometimes, it is soooo hard.  But, just like Peter returning to his nets and being called back to the work of disciple, this life is truly a matter of making our wills coincide with His.  (See the amazing talk by Elder Holland at http://www.lds.org/general-conference/2012/10/the-first-great-commandment?lang=eng.  I love to listen to it, because his voice is so moving!)

But then, as I was thinking about how emotionally done I felt at that moment, the next verse in 3 Nephi 27 that caught my eye said something like, "whomsoever doeth this, shall be lifted up at the last day," and I realized...we don't lift ourselves up.  In a very real sense, I saw myself very literally being lifted up to meet my Maker, much like a babe in arms, a very imperfect, a very needy babe in arms, and brought to be with Him.  It is a totally dependent phrase, and reminds me of one of my favorite songs of all time,..."I can only imagine" by MercyMe.

I can only imagine

I know that this moment will pass, that my cup will be replenished.  I have experienced the calm after the storm before, and know it will come.  (The sun will rise, right :)?) However, in this moment, the words of "Where Can I Turn for Peace?" are such a comfort:

1. Where can I turn for peace?
Where is my solace
When other sources cease to make me whole?
When with a wounded heart, anger, or malice,
I draw myself apart,
Searching my soul?

2. Where, when my aching grows,
Where, when I languish,
Where, in my need to know, where can I run?
Where is the quiet hand to calm my anguish?
Who, who can understand?
He, only One.

3. He answers privately,
Reaches my reaching
In my Gethsemane, Savior and Friend.
Gentle the peace he finds for my beseeching.
Constant he is and kind,
Love without end.

Text: Emma Lou Thayne, b. 1924. © 1973 IRI

It's amazing how much these words can reach us..in our reaching.  I am so grateful for the hymns, grateful for tears that cleanse, grateful for power naps,...

...but, truly, grateful for one who knows.