“How do you do it? How are you so vulnerable in your writing?”
Her eyes were red, I felt certain that she told them not to cry but I would have been fine with crying because I understand the language of tears.
I guess I forgot how to write with my walls up although I am certain that I began this journey afraid to sift through inner-messiness with watching eyes. Ministry is often referred to as the “fish bowl” and over the years I allowed others into my fish bowl and placed a welcome mat at the door of my heart. I stopped worrying about ridicule and chose risky-relatability instead. That riskiness has opened far more doors than carefulness ever did.
I let them swing wide-open as I made peace with the broken parts of my story. I guess I relaxed a little, maybe it is from growing older and fitting into my skin better. Or perhaps, it was that low dose of meds that took the edge off. Either way, I’ll take it and be grateful for it.
I think there is a celebration of brokenness that says, “Hey, look at my hurts.” But, we are missing the nail scarred hands and the power of the cross that points to our healing that has already been paid for. For some reason, we have become too timid to cash it in and move on. Maybe it’s because our insecurities and our past have become tethered to the core of our identity. Maybe it’s because we think it’s easier and safer to ignore our mother-load of baggage instead of doing the hard work to get over it.
Over the years, I began asking really pointed questions.
How can God get glory from the things we refuse to get over?
Uncluttering our heart leads to better things that last.
Freedom looks like making better friends with our story, even the part of our story we used omit faking our way through the lie of “I’m fine.”
We can stop celebrating brokenness by focusing on wholeness in Christ.
Grief is irrational. Feel it anyway. Fear is a liar. Tell it to hush so you can listen to the Holy Spirit. Pain is never wasted space. We can run into it head-on or we can default to a prettier version of pretending that leaves us stationary and stuck.
But, how do we become unstuck?
Becoming unstuck begins with one small step forward and one really big step towards repentance. I have been in go-mode for two years and recently realized how many things I pushed to the side in the name of survival and proving myself. Relationships with friends who mean the world to me have suffered and I have found myself in a state of repentance as I release the death-grip I had on marking things off my list and keeping up.
I made a choice to switch from survival-mode to find myself sustained in Christ. Perfection is off the table. I am ready to listen. I am ready to slow down, rearrange my priorities, and relax into a different pace that can still be fruitful and far more meaningful.
How can we find peace when we are trying to keep up with a hurried pace and everything in our lives is overly cluttered?
Today I woke up and had to repent and ask God for a spiritual reset. I had to forgive myself, which is so much harder for me than it is extending forgiveness to others.
Are you ready to switch from survival-mode to finding your soul sustained in Christ? Me, too.
What do you need to take off your list?
Is it unrealistic expectations?
Or fear of the future?
Do you find yourself constantly beating yourself up but offering kindness to everyone else freely?
He will sustain you.
He will carry you.
He will sustain and rescue you.
Even to your old age and gray hairs
I am he, I am he who will sustain you.
I have made you and I will carry you;
I will sustain you and I will rescue you.
It is not too late to ask God for a spiritual reset and rearrange your life in a way that will work better for you. The only way I know to reset my mind from the earthly things to the eternal is through the Word. Slow down and listen, I know God will speak to your heart.
Much love to you,
“You will keep in perfect peace him whose mind is steadfast, because he trusts in you.” (Isaiah 26:3 ESV)