"Tired and Grateful" by Ludmilla Teterina

I am tired. I am so tired!  This pandemic has stretched what already was a limited supply of my inner strength—to the limit. I didn't know just how limited it was.

I am tired of wearing two masks for eight hours, five days of the week. Of not being able to take a drink when I need to. Of not being able to put lip moisturizer on my dry, chapped lips—licking them only makes them drier. I am tired of washing my hands every five minutes until my skin is so dry it cracks, of wearing the same pair of shoes every day, five days a week, and of removing them in the garage, so I don't bring anything infectious into the house. I am tired of wearing the same color of scrubs day in and day out—I may never again wear anything navy in my life!  I am tired of shedding my scrubs in the laundry room before taking one more step into my home. I am tired of worrying about my patients, people I have come to care for deeply, perhaps more than just professionally—only to watch the count of those tested positive going up. So tired of counseling them and trying to sound positive, while deep in my heart, I can't really know if they, indeed, will be okay.

I am tired of not being with my friends. Of not being able to just stop after work for a drink or a quick dinner and catch up with one another. Tired of not sharing the simple joys of laughter and tears, to comfort and hug them, and be hugged in return. So tired of not being able to hug!  I am tired of not being able to grieve with my friends as they grieve losing their loves ones. Of not being able to spend time with them, cry with them, sit with them. I am tired of not being able to see my family. Of canceling yet another vacation. Of changing plans—again. Of not being able to travel. Will we ever be able to fly again without reservation, fear, and masks?   

I am tired of not being with my church family. Of not feeling the excitement on Sunday morning in anticipation of seeing some of the best people I know, all in one place, together. Of not getting a cup of coffee at the bar in the Welcome Center. Of not seeing faces, full faces, not halves, and smiles, and smiles back.  I am tired of not being able to sing—singing in the shower just doesn't cut it!  So tired of missing the power of music and voices coming together to create a masterpiece, perhaps imperfect, but a masterpiece nonetheless, with each word and with each note. Of hearing the majestic sounds of the organ and orchestra, and children's voices singing and laughing. Of not seeing the light coming through the stained-glass windows, streaming into the Sanctuary, a masterpiece all its own.

I am tired. And yet—I am grateful!  Grateful for the simple pleasures of everyday life that I have so often taken for granted. Grateful for that first sip of coffee in the morning—oh, that smell of freshly brewed coffee!  For the gift of each new day. For the sunlight that welcomes me every morning on my way to work. For the warm kiss of a southern breeze on my check—for these past few unexpected and surprising August-like November days. I am grateful for the thick multicolored carpet of autumn leaves rustling under my feet—they take me right back to childhood, and for these memories, I too am grateful. For crisp evening air reminding me of seasons and of the fact that all things change. I am grateful for my dog's wet nose nudging me to love on him and for his unconditional love that helps me forget that I am tired. For the laughter of children I hear from the outside. Grateful for neighbors getting to know neighbors, even from a distance. I am grateful for how much we can appreciate each other when we slow down and take time to look at each other on the eye—masks don't cover the eyes!

I am grateful for technology. For how it allows me to connect with my friends and family at the push of a button. Grateful for seeing my brother's face—without a mask—on his birthday and for celebrating his wonderful life with him. Grateful for being able to worship with my church family in the safety of my home. For prayers and music and songs and sermons that come to me through the electronic media and speak directly to my heart and challenge me and make me want to be a better human being.

Mostly, I am grateful for God's love that I feel even in the middle of this pandemic—perhaps especially in the middle of this pandemic. When unimportant things become obvious, I'm grateful for changing perspectives, and what is truly important finds its rightful place front and center. I'm thankful for the gift of life's simple joys, mentioned, and unmentioned. For an encouraging word that comes to me through Scripture or a book, I am reading. For reminding me that it is okay to take care of myself. For an unexpected phone call from a friend to remind me of God's care for me. For a card that arrived in my mailbox to let me know someone is praying for me. I'm grateful for the evening news that makes me realize that my life is so much easier than that of my neighbors, though I have done nothing to deserve that. This realization of God's love for me helps renew my strength and move me on, past being tired and toward another day—because tomorrow there will be someone who is more tired than I am, and I just might be able to do something about that.