Objectivity Escapes Me When
Last month, I attended a 3-day intense training and as well as a 4-day conference within two weeks of each other, both necessitating out-of-town travel. Following these two trips, I found myself exhausted and blue (adrenal depletion, no doubt). The problem isn't that I get like this from time to time -- most of us probably do -- it's that when I'm exhausted I lose all objectivity. And I start letting my physical condition affect my thinking. And that's when I end up way out on that proverbial limb.
It's all there in a prayer journal entry dated November 21st. I was opening my heart before God, exploring all the possible "reasons" for feeling soooo sad. I listed things like the condition of our old fixer-upper house, which is not nearly as "fixed up" two years after moving in as I'd hoped. And the state of our finances (which is largely responsible for the former). And some of the people I love not living up to their potential (oh, like I am or something...). And not achieving goals I'd set for myself. And such. The list got long.
So there I was, glub-glubbing in self- p-i-t-y (shhhh -- don't say it out loud, I'm so embarrassed). I concluded the day's entry on a rather low note, imploring God for help with everything that seemed "wrong" in my sorry life.
Reminds me of a thing that used to happen occasionally with one of our sons when he was a little guy. Hunger and fatigue would sneak up and overtake him. When he got in that condition, any and everything would overwhelm him. I wouldn't pick up on his high level of metabolic distress and would make the mistake of trying to reason with him. My encouragement, cajoling, persuasion would fall on deaf ears and his mood would only worsen.
About then his father would sense what was really the matter, have mercy on both of us and intervene. (I'm also embarrassed that I was a slow learner on this one, this scenario having occurred numerous times.) His father would quietly mention to me that our son just needed to eat something. And then maybe go lie down. Dad's suggestion would always be the ticket, leaving me feeling sorta clueless for not having picked up on our son's real needs. Often, after eating, the boy would perk right up and even play a while quite happily before going to bed.
I wonder if my Father's suggestion to me on the 21st of November would have been similar, perhaps: "Linda, you're exhausted and you've lost objectivity. Go eat some healthy food. Take a walk and pump some oxygen to your brain. And then go to bed earrrrrly. Meet Me back here with your journal in the morning when you're restored and refreshed." I don't know. I was too far out on that limb to "hear".
I'll try to remind myself next time I'm in the dumps. You too?
It's all there in a prayer journal entry dated November 21st. I was opening my heart before God, exploring all the possible "reasons" for feeling soooo sad. I listed things like the condition of our old fixer-upper house, which is not nearly as "fixed up" two years after moving in as I'd hoped. And the state of our finances (which is largely responsible for the former). And some of the people I love not living up to their potential (oh, like I am or something...). And not achieving goals I'd set for myself. And such. The list got long.
So there I was, glub-glubbing in self- p-i-t-y (shhhh -- don't say it out loud, I'm so embarrassed). I concluded the day's entry on a rather low note, imploring God for help with everything that seemed "wrong" in my sorry life.
Reminds me of a thing that used to happen occasionally with one of our sons when he was a little guy. Hunger and fatigue would sneak up and overtake him. When he got in that condition, any and everything would overwhelm him. I wouldn't pick up on his high level of metabolic distress and would make the mistake of trying to reason with him. My encouragement, cajoling, persuasion would fall on deaf ears and his mood would only worsen.
About then his father would sense what was really the matter, have mercy on both of us and intervene. (I'm also embarrassed that I was a slow learner on this one, this scenario having occurred numerous times.) His father would quietly mention to me that our son just needed to eat something. And then maybe go lie down. Dad's suggestion would always be the ticket, leaving me feeling sorta clueless for not having picked up on our son's real needs. Often, after eating, the boy would perk right up and even play a while quite happily before going to bed.
I wonder if my Father's suggestion to me on the 21st of November would have been similar, perhaps: "Linda, you're exhausted and you've lost objectivity. Go eat some healthy food. Take a walk and pump some oxygen to your brain. And then go to bed earrrrrly. Meet Me back here with your journal in the morning when you're restored and refreshed." I don't know. I was too far out on that limb to "hear".
I'll try to remind myself next time I'm in the dumps. You too?
posted by Linda at
12:25 AM
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