Recently,
Another mom
Shared with me
About how stressed out
And overextended she was feeling.
Near tears,
She wondered out loud
How did I get here?
And how long would it last?
And I heard
Her underlying question
Is this how it’s supposed to be?

I remembered a time
Only a few years ago,
When I felt the same way.
When I truly believed
That I had no other options
But to keep going;
Keep giving
More than I had
For longer
Than I could sustain.

Looking back
I don’t know
Why I thought
I had to give
Until there was nothing left?

But there I was
Running on a treadmill
Only on fumes
No gas
Until my body and soul
Were screaming for help
For attention
When they were once
Only whispering.

And I found myself freeze
As I considered
What to tell my friend.
What I would say
To anyone
Who might tell me
They are feeling the same way.
Or even heading
In that direction.

Because I wanted
To scream and yell
To her
At the top of my lungs:

GET OFF THE TREADMILL!
PUSH THE “STOP” BUTTON!

Or at very least:

SLOW DOWN!
TAKE A BREAK!
DANGER AHEAD!

Because I felt it
With the same urgency
That I would scream and yell
To a toddler
Who is about to run
Into an oncoming bus.

And I wanted to tell her
I know, I know,
You might think
As I did:

I can’t.

It’s not an option.

There isn’t time.

It’s not that bad.

I’m probably okay.

Too many other people
Are counting on me.

And you might argue
Like I did:

There’s no way.
All the things I’m juggling
With fear and fervor
Would absolutely
Fall to the ground
And shatter
Like glass.

But what if
You didn’t stop?
Didn’t slow down?
And what if
That cost you your life?

That sounds dramatic
But I experienced it.

Not that I lost my life
To physical death,
But I did lose my life
I lost myself
For a time.
To everything else
And everyone else
But me.

And the realization
Came only later,
That no one had asked me
To do that.

But I didn’t realize
At the time
That there were
Any other options.
Or what it was costing me.

And I found myself
Sobbing to my dear friend
“Will it ever be my turn?”

When would I ever finish
My never-ending to-do list
So I could
Finally
Nurture and nourish
My depleted heart, body, soul?

It had cost me dearly.
Multiple health diagnoses
That all pointed to the same cause:
Overextending myself.

And multiple practitioners
All pointing to the same prescription:
I needed to rest
To nurture
To restore.
I knew
Jesus Himself
Had admonished us:

Love others as thyself.

Love them as much
As you love yourself.
And if you don’t love yourself
Very much,
It’s hard to love others
Very much
Either.

I also knew
The admonition:

Do not run faster
Or labor
More than you have strength.

I also knew
Every time
I got on an airplane,
Without fail
They would say:

“Put on your mask first
Before helping others.”

I had heard the warning:
You can’t pour
From an empty cup.

I knew
That there were
Multiple aide stations
Along the route
Of a marathon;
Their sole purpose
Designed to help
Replenish weary runners
So they could keep running.

Why could I not realize
That I wasn’t
Stopping at the aide stations
In the marathon
Of motherhood
And life?
A marathon
That went on
For much, much longer
Than 26.2 miles
And likely longer
Than 26.2 years?

I really thought I was fine.
Until I wasn’t.

And because I believe that
Beautiful lessons
Can grow out of barren stubble,
I want to share
With anyone
Who is feeling like I did.

But instead of screaming
In your face,
Like you’re about to
Run into an oncoming bus
(you’re welcome)
I will just quietly plead:

Please slow down.
At the very least
Please create some aide stations.

Please honestly listen
To the parts of you
That might be screaming
For attention
For nourishment
For nurturing.
And then answer.

Even better,
Listen to those parts
Of your heart, soul, body
That still might be whispering.

It could possibly save your life.