He restores my soul

Hello dear reader.  It's a chilly Autumn afternoon here at our home among the gum trees.  But I don't want to talk about the weather.  I have a warm knitted cape made from beautiful pure wool over my shoulders.  But I don't want to talk about knitting.  Not today, that is.

You may know the source of the heading I have used for this post,  'He restores my soul'.  It's a phrase in one of the most well known pieces of Christian scripture - the 23rd Psalm.

I would like to tell you today about how I have experienced the restoring of my soul. 

Firstly, I would like to record here a couple of points.

1.  This site, 'villagemidwife' has allowed me to share my knowledge and passion for midwifery for a decade or more.  I loved writing, story-telling, commenting.  Then, quite suddenly, I realised I had to stop.  I was physically burnt out.  I was old.  I needed to go to bed, and stay in bed, each night - a midwife may not have that option. 
   
2. I have continued to use the 'villagemidwife' site so that I remember the person I was.  I wrote, and spoke, with confidence.  It did not matter to me if anyone read my posts.  My hope was to record experiences and learnings, so that perhaps one day someone would experience for themself the wonder of childbearing and nurture as I had. 
3. I have to acknowledge that I feel much less confident writing about life generally than I did when writing about mothers and babies.

 

The past couple of years have brought the covid 19 pandemic to our homes, schools, hospitals, ...  I have followed news reports and websites closely, learning the language of this virus, and the often confusing recommendations of the host of medical experts whose expertise is in infectious diseases, immunology, and epidemiology.  In the State of Victoria we had months of severe restrictions, and lockdowns.  

In this context of frequent change to the rules, I experienced an indefinable drag on my energy.  The aches and pains of an ageing body, the shoulder, the knees ...  I missed seeing my children and grand children.  The wonders of modern communication, with Zoom, and face to face telephone calls somehow did not satisfy me.  I need face to face.  I need touch.

The lack of energy was, as far as I can see, depression. 

Then these words became real.  "He (GOD) restores my soul."  He restores my soul, my whole person, from the emptyness, the drag, the loneliness, the sadness that has crept into the very essence of my being.

I have known the Twentithird Psalm for as long as I can recall.  My mother must have taught it to us.  We often sang it in Church.  But I had never before noticed this beautiful phrase, "He restores my soul."  Now it jumped into my consciousness.  Not a power switch - now you're fixed!  But an ongoing work of restoring and continuing to restore, as long as it's needed.  

And I dare say that ongoing work of restoring will be needed for some time - without limits.