When Peter still had a morning nap, I studied my Bible like an eager young postulant. Since he quit taking it, I've struggled to find the time.
It's not as if he doesn't still sleep. There's the afternoon and evening. But since I had gotten used to using these times for doing anything that needs doing on the computer, spending time with my husband, doing chores that can't be done with a toddler at my feet (like ironing), I'm loathe to change. When I do have time "to myself," I want to do mindless things like smock in front of the television. I don't even like tv.
My reading? Fiction. Magazines. Nothing that requires thought! Even when I do read the Bible, I've found myself memorizing rather than studying, because my brain feels like mush.
The thought of Bible study now feels like work, like one more demand on my time. Ouch. I can't believe I admitted that. Yet there's power in confession, so I'm putting this out there.
Meanwhile, I struggle to keep up with my toddler, operating on low resources because I feel detached from my greatest source of strength.