Guest post by Stephanie Rodda

Our seven children are all in their twenties. We have eight preschool grandchildren. Apparently, we are never going to experience the “empty-nest syndrome.”

A decade ago, I focused on my lifelong dream to write. I scrambled for time since we still homeschooled our children. As grandchildren began to arrive, the juggling of time became more intense.

Two years ago, my husband faced health issues that led to eventual amputations, including a loss of one leg. As I entered the new-to-me world of being a spousal caregiver, I felt derailed and disoriented. All priorities had to be reevaluated. We couldn’t be as available to our family. Speaking engagements and writing projects had to be canceled.

It was a chaotic time of a “not-so-empty nest.” I never expected such a season of life where we were pulled between so many different responsibilities and feeling guilty for not being able to be everything to everyone. Thankfully, the intensity surrounding my husband’s health has lessened somewhat. My work hours outside the home have decreased. My writing has a new manageable pace. And I’m making peace with being less available.

The Lord used a passage of Scripture to give me guidance and encouragement during this stressful time. In 2 Kings 4 a woman was at her wits’ end. In order to get a supernatural intervention, she had to take some steps.

First, she was asked what she had to work with. She said she had nothing at all left. I’ve been there. Maybe you have, too. Then she admitted, “I have just a little oil left.”

Next, she had to collect empty vessels and surround herself with them. That required a great deal of humility and faith. She prepared for a miracle she couldn’t begin to imagine.

Finally, the prophet told her, “Go into your house and shut the door.” Then, she could begin to pour.

I was used to being available to everyone. The concept of “shutting the door’” was foreign and alarming. God gently showed me that I could not focus on pouring out my anointing (oil) as He was asking me to if I continued trying to be what only He could be to other people, even those I loved dearly.

Shutting the door does not equal locking out those I loved. Instead, it allows me to focus on the most pressing needs of the moment that surround me, which sometimes includes holding a sleeping grandchild while I write on my phone, just like right now.

Then go into your house with your sons and shut the door behind you.
Pour olive oil from your flask into the jars, setting each one aside when it is filled.
2 Kings 4:4 NLT

Stephanie Rodda lives in the Birmingham, Alabama, area with her husband, children, and grandchildren. Her favorite subjects to write about are faith and family. Recently she published her first illustrated children’s book, Backyard Betsy, and spends time teaching workshops, visiting schools, and speaking at churches and conferences. Her devotional writings appear daily on Facebook and weekly on her blog.

Tracy Crump dispenses hope in her award-winning book, Health, Healing, and Wholeness: Devotions of Hope in the Midst of Illness (CrossLink Publishing: 2021). A former intensive care nurse, she cared for her parents and her mother-in-law and understands both the burdens and joys of caregiving. Her devotions have been featured in Guideposts books, The Upper Room, and many other publications, and she has contributed 25 stories to Chicken Soup for the Soul® books. She also conducts writing workshops, produces a newsletter for writers, and does freelance editing. But her most important job is Grandma to five completely unspoiled grandchildren.