This weariness of mine | George MacDonald
by Elouise
For several months I’ve been up, down, and all over the place trying to figure out who I am now, and why I feel so weary. To things that fell apart years ago, new things arrive unannounced, no matter how long or short the distance may be from here to the end of life as I’ve known it.
On January 1 of this year I began reading one of George MacDonald’s sonnets each day. It’s my 3rd or 4th time going through them. This time, however, I’m finally beginning to hear MacDonald as he was when he wrote them. He was living through a slow, painful death following many years of chronic tuberculosis, the loss of five of his children (4 to tuberculosis), and ongoing debates with church officials who didn’t find his brand of Christianity fully acceptable.
My life has been a lark compared to his. Yet even as I write this I know it’s not the truth. My life has NOT been a lark. I have often not been fully accepted as the person I am, beginning with my upbringing and continuing through my adult years. I must also say I wouldn’t have made it without unnumbered friends and strangers along the way.
These days, weariness is a constant companion. Some of it because of new and old health issues; other pieces because of what it has cost, and still costs me to be the woman I am. I’m often tempted to feel sorry for myself, or angry because of what I inherited the day I was born.
This sonnet, however, isn’t about the past. It’s about the present and the future. It’s about the wonderful gift of accepting weariness as a sign that I’ve done what I could do. Like fruit past ripe, I too am waiting to drop wearily into the good earth. Finally at rest.
Here’s the sonnet I didn’t understand until today.
3 December, from George MacDonald’s The Book of Strife in the Form of the Diary of an Old Soul
This weariness of mine, may it not come
From something that doth need no setting right?
Shall fruit be blamed if it hang wearily
A day before it perfected drop plumb
To the sad earth from off its nursing tree?
Ripeness must always come with loss of might.
The weary evening fall before the resting night.© 1994 Augsburg Fortress, page 120
Thanks for reading and listening. I couldn’t ask for a better audience.
Elouise♥
© Elouise Renich Fraser, 3 December 2022
Tanbirul Islam, photographer; photo found at http://www.pexels.com
(((HUGS))) and prayers 🙏❤️🙏
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Hugs of gratitude right back, plus prayers for you and your family during this advent season! 🙂
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The opposite of accepting weariness is that dreadful feeling that there is something I have left undone. Acceptance is knowing that we did what we could.
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Well said, John. I fall into the category of wondering what I’ve left undone — an attitude nurtured in me from an early age. Thanks for your response. It hit the mark!
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I love “accepting weariness as a sign I’ve done what I could do.”
What a great benchmark! I’ve too often interpreted weariness as a sign of failure or inadequacy. Now I will replace those messages with “I’ve done all that I can could do.” Everything is not for me to do.
I love you and your blog, Elouise. Thank you!
Marilyn
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Thanks, Marilyn. You’re right on target. This foolish habit (of questioning myself constantly) was pounded into me from the day I was born. Phew…what a burden! I love your comment at the end of the paragraph — “Everything is not for me to do.” What a burden to lay down and (dare I say it?) let rot!
Hugs and smiles to you today! 🙂
Elouise
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Thank you, Elouise, your wisdom shines a light as we walk. :-)) Bless you!
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Thank you, Fran. I feel as though I’m in a semi-dark forest these days–watching for the little/big things that can bring me down internally as well as externally. Learning to live in the slow lane has been difficult. I’ve thought of you innumerable times. It helps me remember that life is still beautiful, if sometimes dismal and discouraging. Learning to let go of big projects and dreams has been both difficult and rewarding. I’m so grateful our paths crossed early. Blessings of peace and grace to you and yours during this Advent season. 🙂
Elouise
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Thank you so much, Elouise. Your words always touch something in me, for which I am grateful: our experiences mirrored, perhaps, or sympathetic. I understand.
Letting go is my biggest challenge at the moment, even though I know – I really know! – that Spirit can manage things so much better than I ever could, and wants to help me be happier. I declared: “I surrender my life and all my actions, to God’s wisdom…” and got back, “So here is an end to suffering…” which made me smile in the dark, and gave me welcome pause. Also, having said, “I surrender all to God’s guidance” I received, “Then you must give up all of the past…”
Perhaps you can relate. ((xxx))
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Ouch! Indeed. Letting go is hard-core business. I like “surrender” much more! 🙂 Perhaps it makes me feel more in charge than I am? Thank you again for a challenging, thought-provoking comment. 🙂
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