My Hand Cream Almost Made Me Cry

On letting myself be rescued

Here’s something you should know about me: when I’m stressed, overwhelmed, or burnt out, it shows up in my body.

I learned this the hard way in college, when I was balancing being away from home for the first time, fostering a new marriage, trying to live on very little money, making new friends, figuring out my faith, and being my try-hard-self still aiming for perfect grades in every class.

My skin and joints were the most inflamed they’ve ever been. I’m so glad my body was able to rebound from that harsh season.

I now realize that this inflammation is one of the first warning signs that I’ve taken things too far again—that I’m on the verge of burnout.

I didn’t even need the warning sign to know I was at the end of myself a couple months ago.

I was still in the postpartum season with a newborn and a toddler, and we were buying our first home and then living between our rental and our new house. It was a season of so many blessings and I wouldn’t change it, but it was a lot to manage at once.

My skin, of course, was starting to react to the constant stress and exhaustion and can’t-handle-this-ness of the season.

And one night, as I unpacked my toiletries into my new bathroom drawer, I almost bawled my eyes out.

The stuff I was putting on my hands (that I randomly got as a freebie from some company) was called rescue gel.

And I welled with tears not only because I knew my skin needed rescuing, but that I needed rescuing.

And I realized at that moment how many people had come to my rescue and literally brought me back to life over and over again in those hard weeks:

How I threw my arms around my dad when he showed up at my house to help carry boxes down our three flights of stairs to the garage.

How my friend Meredith cooked us a whole chicken to eat for the week.

How my mom helped me strategize how to fit our whole life into boxes all while caring for two small girls.

How my friend Jackie texted that she would be coming over at 1:00pm if it would be helpful. (Not “how can I help?” But “I’m coming to help,” which felt so wonderful in a season when I was already overwhelmed with planning and strategizing. Truly a weight lifted off my shoulders to not even have to plan when she would come and how she’d help. Use this as a template when you’re coming to your friends’ rescue!)

The postpartum season is a terrible time to add another huge life change into the mix, but our village made it possible.

And I’m so glad I got to the end of myself enough to know that I desperately needed help. I couldn’t just say “I’m good!” like I usually do and try to shoulder all the weight myself.

I needed to surrender to letting myself be rescued. And in turn, my friends and family got the beautiful opportunity to serve us with their time and gifts and love. And I also realized how God answered one of my huge prayers by bringing us a community of people to go through life with here in Colorado.

I know there will be more seasons when I’ll need rescuing and others where I’ll be the rescuer. But it’s so good to know that when we come to the end of ourselves, we have each other.

I’m not an expert, but I think that’s one of the big points of life.

Sarah