Knee-deep in boxes, breakfast bars, and sleeping bags, I was within a rat’s whisker of a full-scale meltdown. Our annual family camping trip was due to hit the road tomorrow. Illnesses, unplanned overtime, a mad dash to the E.R. with my youngest, a washing machine on the fritz and last-minute car repairs had put me waaaaay behind the proverbial eight ball in planning and prep. To say I was “a little stressed” was like dubbing Noahic rains “a little bit” wet!
“I can’t remember EVERYTHING!” I howled. “Where’s The List? Did we remember extra matches? Did we get the trail mix? Did you pack extra socks? Have you gassed up the car? I’m gonna have a stroke if I don’t get some more help!!”
The list was endless. I felt like Atlas – struggling to hold the weight of the world on my shoulders – and failing. I was melting like butter on a hot skillet.
In the midst of my whirling-dervish packing, loading, barking orders, reminders, and “making a list and checking it twice,” the soft refrain of an Elisha Hoffman hymn crept into my mind:
“I must tell Jesus! I must tell Jesus!
I cannot bear my burden alone;
I must tell Jesus! I must tell Jesus!
Jesus can help me, Jesus alone.”
What did I do? Not a thing. I just continued full-bore, rushing here and there, my frustration level scaling into Mount Vesuvius proportions.
“I must tell Jesus all of my troubles,
He is a kind, compassionate Friend;
If I but ask him, He will deliver,
Make of my troubles quickly an end.”
“I don’t have time to tell anyone ANYthing! The third verse came, more insistent:
“Tempted and tried, I need a great Savior,
One who can help my burdens to bear;
I must tell Jesus, I must tell Jesus,
He all my cares and sorrows will share.”
It took a while, but I finally caved. I parked on the kitchen floor and told Him: “I can’t do this. It’s too much in too little time!”
Given my stubborn “self-sufficiency,” I expected a rebuke. Instead, that “still, small voice” seemed to smile as He gently whispered: “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness…” (II Corinthians 12:9)
He gave what I needed most – the distinct sense that I was NOT “all by myself.” That He not only knows, but He cares. Deeply. Intensely. Eternally. I smiled too – at my own headstrong foolishness and the tender care of a listening Lord whose ears, like His arms, are ever open if I am but still enough to Come.
“O how the world to evil allures me!
O how my heart is tempted to sin!
I must tell Jesus, and he will help me
Over the world the vict’ry to win.”
Packing and prep was completed expeditiously and we reveled in a wonderful time amid the rugged beauty of the Cascades. But it began by refocusing my perspective and re-learning to tell Him everything – especially when I “don’t have time!”
“Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.” – II Corinthians 12:9b