Weary

In an undergrad art class, I did a charcoal drawing of a model. I enjoyed the process of the assignment. We had a very brief time to do a contour drawing of the model. We were told to rub it out. Another pose, another contour drawing. Rub it out. Repeat. Eventually, we had a very smudged, dark page with outlines of our model in different poses. For the final pose, we "drew" with our eraser to create the image.

I really liked how it turned out. I connected with it. He looked weary, and I've struggled with chronic fatigue for years.

It made it into one of the art shows at the college. Years later, it found its way into a frame in my bedroom. I thought it seemed fitting to hang it in the room where I should be able to find rest.

Through the journey following Carys' diagnosis, I've looked at the image differently. There is a weariness that goes beyond the tired of the end of the day, or even the physical fatigue I've dealt with for years. There's the sheer exhaustion of losing a child. It's the weariness that comes along with being a Maranomi. It affects every area of life and makes the peace and rest of Heaven all the more appealing. 

Though I'm regaining much of my strength, my weariness is like a shadow that seems to follow me. I think it will as long as I live here. Some day, though, my strength will be renewed. Because God always has a plan.

Isaiah 40:28-31

(NIV) 

²⁸ 

Do you not know?
    Have you not heard?
The Lord is the everlasting God,
    the Creator of the ends of the earth.
He will not grow tired or weary,
    and his understanding no one can fathom.
²⁹ He gives strength to the weary
    and increases the power of the weak.
³⁰ Even youths grow tired and weary,
    and young men stumble and fall;
³¹ but those who hope in the Lord
    will renew their strength.
They will soar on wings like eagles;
    they will run and not grow weary,
    they will walk and not be faint.