These days my own frailty is being made painfully clear. I have not been able to find a good groove since school began in early September, and now in my last week of pregnancy have had to make peace with the fact that I just can't do everything. It's funny how demanding these last few weeks can be, in a time when you have so little to give - because you know that no matter what, very soon you will have even less to give, so you'd better do what you can now. The balance of living in what is my reality for the moment, while at the same time knowing that very soon I will have a whole new reality, can be both challenging and encouraging at the same time.
I attended a women's adoration at the beginning of the month. In the days and weeks leading up to it I found myself not only confronted with my own burdens, but also those of several people close to me whom I love dearly, and I found myself before the Blessed Sacrament asking the question, "what is humanity?" Immediately the answer came back to me: frailty. And it occured to me that each one of us present that evening had her own burdens, her own problems that she was bringing before the Lord. In fact that every person in one way or another is burdened, is frail. Sometimes we run from it, sometimes we embrace it, and sometimes we bring it to Jesus. But regardless of how we deal with it, we are all the same, so very fragile.
And being ripe with child, the beauty of the parenthood analogy is ever before me. No newborn baby refuses their mother's help. They beg and plead for it endlessly, until it is satified and they are at peace. And we look at that and say, "isn't that beautiful?" We don't scoff at the child's lack of independance, or turn down our noses that they didn't make it through on their own. Why then do we expect so much of ourselves? We were made to be needy, so that our need would direct us back to the only One who can satisfy us, our Heavenly Father. And so it makes sense that sometimes, especially for stubborn people like me who want so desperately to feel like they have it all together, God allows everything to fall apart. So that I can beg and plead for Him, and He can wrap me in His arms and take care of it for me, until I am at peace in His embrace. Sometimes God allows you to feel the weight of your burden so that you know how much you need His help.
"Cast your cares upon Him, lay your life upon Him for only He is worthy to stand. In tribulation trial and sorrow, when you can't see through tomorrow, He'll reveal to you the frailty of a man." (John Michael Talbot)