a psalm for lockdown, work-from-home, remote learning and such like

Who’d a thunk staying home all day, every day could be so exhausting?

I thought I had it easy:
work from home a cinch,
less family to wrangle than most,
plenty of friends to call and text
yet before I know I am stressed
overwhelmed
and exhausted.

Maybe it’s the screen overload.
Maybe it’s the bad news torrent.
Maybe it’s the unrelenting emails and web meetings
and chats and notifications
at all hours
that once were not a thing.

When did it become OK to message me
round the clock, virtually?
Don’t remember signing up for this…
And I’m so, so tired.

And then I feel ashamed –
so many in pain
so many with no job at all
so many unsure who to call –
I guess I seem like a safe bet.

And yet
I am so, so tired.

And I’m angry and frustrated;
then remorse floods in:
what a whinger!
by that harsh voice locked within berated.

Am I not allowed to be tired?
Why do I feel like I don’t deserve a break?
Whose judgement do I fear,
Whose approval seeking?

Am I not merely human?
Frail dust
Small hands
Fuzzed mind
Spent frame
Tired
child.

Oh, child, your Father hears,
Here is rest, here’s peace;
I’m tallying up those tears.
Come to Me –

Drop the cumbersome, ill fitting backpack you’ve placed on yourself.
My yoke a tether
Lighter than a feather,
Custom made,
Gently laid
On your tender shoulders –
Easily borne for the long haul
For I bear it with you.

So rest in Me,
Tired child;
In My strong arms beneath, around, beside,
True rest resides.