Fighting frustration

I'm trying to sort through what's going on in my head. Most days this week I've felt lethargic and unmotivated. I'm not sure if that's been my body fighting a bug off, or if it's emotional. Possibly both. But I've been trying to write this blog post for days, and I'm not getting much clarity. If anything, I'm more frustrated today than when I began.

Earlier this week we had student-led conferences. I presume other schools have things like this, but I'd never heard of it before I came here. It is a time at the start of second semester, where they get the students to look at how first semester went and make goals for second semester. The goals can be anything from academic to more general self-care (like exercise and sleep). Then the parents are called in to hear what the students have to say (with no teacher intervention). I find it's even more frustrating than being asked to set my own goals. At least then I have some control over whether I work to meet those or not. Alas, looking at your teenager make goals is a very different affair. First it raises your hopes, then, if they don't make an effort towards that goal, your hopes are dashed. And you're left, not just wondering What's the point? but What role should I play here? How much should I get involved?

So, I'm frustrated. And not just in parenting, also with myself.

Some days I feel like I'm plodding along. Just putting one foot in front of the other, hoping I'll get something done, but also beating back the frustration at not being able to work faster or with more enthusiasm.

And then my ADHD tendencies pop up. There's so much that I want to do, yet there's seemingly not enough time, nor enough energy.

Looking up: that's what I need to do. But not at a light!

But that fire that wants to do too many things still burns quietly. This week:

I want to race through my work.
I want to read the riveting book I've just gotten into.
I want to play Scrabble (and watch crime shows, and generally hang-out) with my husband.
I want to sleep!
I want to have a deep, texting conversation with a friend.
I want to get more exercise.
I want to understand more Japanese.
I want to bone up on my understanding of writing and editing (I am in the middle of both a book and an online course).

[And that's just keeping it small. Never mind about the millions dying because they can't get access to clean water—I'm not being trite here, this fact was in my prayer material this morning and I just felt an overwhelming frustration at how little difference I can actually make in this world.]

These are all fine desires, but keeping them in balance is challenging and sometimes I find myself dashing from one thing to another, not really completing anything. Or even wasting time on things that are definitely optional and not on my list above.

It's an ongoing battle, one, I suspect, that I'm not going to win in this world. I will never get enough books read, spend enough time with loved ones, or have enough rest. I will never learn Japanese well enough to be satisfied, or be as fit or as thin as I could be.

However, in the midst of what's becoming a long missionary career, I'm learning (ever so slowly) to be content with plodding. To deliberately take regular breaks—big and small. In my job, that especially has come to mean communication breaks. It means that I rarely look at email after dinner and weekends are also mostly email-free. I've tried to increase that pace, on occasion, and it usually ends badly.

So I'm torn. I plod, yet parts of me want to soar. Why all the dissatisfaction? Is it just personality defects? Or is this a deeper spiritual problem? Or is it just a fact of life, living in a broken world as a broken person?

I'm not sure. I actually suspect it's a combination of all of that. God made me with a wide range of interests and a lively mind, so I tend to jump from thing to thing (makes for challenging conversation, sometimes). God made me with a caring heart and a sensitive soul that tax my limits to help others. But like most people, he's also given me various responsibilities, and physical limitations (the need to take time to rest and recuperate, plus a few more individual limits). I should be longing for heaven: where none of that will limit me.

Trying to conclude this blog post has drawn me back to the book Awe by Paul Tripp again. It's hard to find something succinct to quote here, but I'll take this portion from a chapter that starts by quoting the whole of Isaiah 40 (which is also worth a slow-read, for perspective adjustment):

So pray right now that God would grace you with the desire and strength to get yourself up out of that dark basement and into the comforting and encouraging light of his existence and glory, and believe that you can fly. Not because you understand, are appreciated, or are in control, but because God controls all things, because he is glorious, and because by grace he is all that he is for you. (p144)