Weary is a weighty word. It brings to mind heavy eyelids and aching joints, the worn out faces of those who have borne too much. To be truly weary is a state of both body and soul. The woman’s swollen face after she’s cried all that she can cry. The burned-out man collapsing on the couch after a brutal day. The couple who has gone round and round, circling the same impasse.
We know the difference between the kind of gratifying tiredness that comes after a good day’s work and the burden of weariness, when the hardness of life settles on us thick and leaden. The book of Ecclesiastes names the latter the “weariness of the flesh” (Ecclesiastes 12:12). It comes with desolation, anxiety, and the deep sigh of despair.
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