A Season for Frayed Edges

I’m tired. Not in a way that going to bed early one night will clear up, but a deeper, heavier tired; a tired that’s as much, if not more, to do with my soul as it is my body.


Photo Credit: Flickr User Frankenmedia, Creative Commons

 If I had to draw a picture of myself, I would have frayed edges. Still whole, intact, but unraveled a bit.

It’s not as though I’m falling apart, though I’ve felt that way before. It’s not even anything specific that’s brought on this feeling. I’ve been busy lately, traveling twice within two weeks and keeping up with all sorts of various church and family commitments and generally filling my life with a lot of good things.

Sometimes though, even the good things can become a bit overwhelming.

That’s all this is, I know–I’ve had times where there is a deeper, more sinister type of tired lurking around the edges. This fraying is not breaking, not jagged edges and sharpness, but a gentle weariness.

I think it’s a reminder that this is how life goes, really. There are seasons of busy, some of it bad but hopefully more of it good, and that busy is often followed by weary, which is a reminder to rest and quite possibly to do busy differently the next time.

So I’m pondering what got me here, to this place with frayed edges, and taking what I know about myself and figuring out what it will be to keep the edges from fraying more–but also knowing that it’s a season. And as they do, this season too will change.

Til next time…


p.s. What do you do you seasons of frayed edges?

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