When it all feels so overwhelming
Thoughts on how to press on when the world is cold and you are tired, plus a writing resource for beginning your work with prayer.
“Why do I do this?” I lamented, baking bread and making soup on a Maine morning so frigid my hands felt as stiff and cold as the icicles hanging from the eaves.
I am not sure anyone heard.
All I knew was that I’d invited a half-dozen friends and family members over to celebrate my husband’s 54th birthday and had a lot to do before they arrived.
I was also tired.
And out of practice at entertaining.
I am also currently the only two-handed adult in our household, with my husband’s shoulder in a sling and our 23-year-old daughter’s arm in a cast after back-to-back injuries on the ski slopes. And it all seemed so overwhelming.
But the moment our son, Gabriel, and daughter-in-law, Abi, arrived with their 2-month-old daughter, Eve, all that work and worry disappeared, replaced by the absolute delight of oohing and aahing over the world’s most adorable grandbaby.
Ours!
Then came our two little chickadees, our former foster children—now more like grandchildren, themselves—bounding up the porch steps with new work gloves for Dana because they’d noticed that his had holes.
Close on their heels, arrived our former neighbor, Joan, like a church-supper on wheels, carting in a steaming crock of meatballs, rolls, stuffed shells, and tiramisu. Last, my recently widowed father-in-law slowly tapped his cane up the snowy path to our door.
Soon the house was ringing with laughter and noise—Gabriel and his teenage brother, Asher, helping their temporarily sidelined father insulate and sheetrock an unfinished bathroom (Six months and no shower! But who’s counting?); our chickadees and our youngest son, Ezra, on the floor playing with knights; everyone gathered around Eve. So much food and warmth and joy, the house couldn’t possibly hold it all.
Why do we do this?
Because when the world is cold and we are tired and overwhelmed, gathering family and friends and neighbors together warms our souls.
Three hours later, as the last car pulled away in the brilliant afternoon sunshine, my former worries seemed so light, I was reminded me of these words from the Apostle Paul, “For our present troubles are small and won’t last very long. Yet they produce for us a glory that vastly outweighs them and will last forever!” 2 Corinthians 4:17 (NLT).
Oh, friends, we have trouble aplenty.
But when we push past our troubles to share our gifts, we glimpse God’s glory—a glory that is guaranteed to last!
So let’s keep gathering.
Let’s keep sharing.
And let’s keep widening our circle of who we consider to be our family and friends and neighbors, so we can celebrate together.
What I’m reading:
Midwinter in Maine is perhaps my favorite time of year—the world muted by a thick blanket of snow, the temperatures plunging, a fire crackling as I sit by the stove and open my laptop to write. It is also the time when I do my deepest work—work that I am constantly seeking God’s guidance for in these troubled times.
So I was delighted this month to order a copy of author and agent Bob Hostetler’s 100 Prayers for Writers: Creative Fuel for Inspired Work (Copy available, by clicking on the link).
Included are prayers addressing laziness, self-doubt, rejection—even a prayer for facing the blank page. With a couple of writing projects on submission and couple more in the works, what a solace I have found this book to be, adding one brief prayer to my pre-writing routine and inviting God into my work. Like this:
My Simple Prayer Today
Gracious Lord,
my prayer for my writing
is for my writing to be my prayer.
Amen
Copyright Bob Hostetler (www.bobhostetler.com). Used with the permission of the author.
With prayers for our work and our neighbors and our world.
Peace, Hope, and Love,
Meadow
Award-winning author Meadow Rue Merrill writes stories that nurture the imagination, foster faith, and inspire a lifelong love of reading. To join her writing journey, subscribe to Meadow’s Field Journal and follow her on Facebook and Instagram.




You are such a fine writer, Meadow. I wish I could sit by that warm stove and chat with you. And I absolutely loved the comparison of your friend to a church supper on wheels!
I felt warm all over just reading this. Thank you.