First Congregational Church Winter Park
Daily Meditation: "Tired"
Wednesday, September 23, 2020

SCRIPTURE
“During the day when I’m in trouble I look for my Lord. At night my hands are still outstretched and don’t grow numb; my whole being refuses to be comforted. I remember God and I moan. I complain, and my spirit grows tired.” - Psalm 77:2-3
REFLECTION
“I don’t want to be a bother.” “They have enough on their plate already, I don’t need to add to their stress.”
Who out there has thought or said something like that? I know my hand is up….
Especially these days, I have a lot on my mind. The daytime is filled with other things to help keep those thoughts and worries at bay, but at night when things quiet down and those distractions are gone, I know what the psalmist means when they say that their whole being refuses to be comforted. My spirit is, no doubt about it, tired.
The other day I watched “Chariots of Fire” for the first time in a long while as I was thinking of Ben Cross who plays Harold Abrahams in the film and recently passed away. It made me realize that many of the people that have been important to my growth and development are gone: Carl Sagan, John Denver, Harry Chapin, David Bowie, Ian Holm, Ben, my dear friend Steve Weisberg, my wonderful friend, mentor and teacher Charlie...and it reminds me that time is marching on. It got me down. Then there’s the pandemic. Social unrest. The election. Processing the events of our church from last fall. My kids doing school virtually from home. Not being able to travel or go to Disney or see my parents or Kath’s family.
My whole being indeed refuses to be comforted, I moan and complain, and my spirit grows tired.
Thankfully, God hears and knows. God doesn’t mind. I’m not a bother, and as much as God has on God’s plate I can place my own distress on God’s pile and that’s OK.
Sometimes, in these times, just knowing that is enough to get me through the night.
PRAYER
Patient God, thank you for always listening when my spirit refuses to be comforted.
Amen.
Peace,
Shawn