Sometimes the difficult obstacle in front of me is so great, I don’t stop to ask if that’s the way I should go. Life is hard- I’ve been through some of it. I get going in the flow of things and try to stay on top of the to-do list. Sometimes weeks at a time pass before I realize I haven’t been slowing down. Just taking a breath and powering through. Something unexpected happens (or I agree to an obligation we didn’t have before) and things get tense. We adjust; another coffee, pizza for dinner, shortcuts, and rushed moments. However hard, we will figure it out. That’s just what life is right?
Maybe.
At the end of the day, past midnight, tired and weary; I sit with the Lord in my prayer-time.
“Lord this is hard and I’m exhausted, but I’m going to keep going, I can do it. This hard road is no problem, I know you’re with me. I know you’ve got it. So I will hold up my end and keep going”
I grab my notebook and write out tomorrow’s crazy schedule. My mind feels momentarily overwhelmed but that’s tomorrow’s problem. There’s a scripture about that I think.
I wake up to the alarm and I hit snooze. Twenty minutes later I’m up again, heart-racing and thoughts foggy.
I end up in various cycles like this often- usually ending in brief “I quit” moments full of distractions, new projects or just ignoring problems. Then, I take a deep breath and get back to it.
There are more invitations to add to the list than to shorten it.
When I hit my limits and I don’t know how things are going to function— I don’t have enough energy to run from my thoughts, burnout, exhaustion, and frustration. I find myself crying about something strange and realize I must be exhausted (great tasting tomatoes aren’t necessarily something to cry over). This is the space where honest prayers come out. No more “trying to be good,” I let go and tell the Lord how I feel.
“Lord, I just can’t do any more things. I know I should be able to. Maybe if nothing came up, plans didn’t change, and life didn’t throw curveballs. I’m just broken.”
“It’s not yours to carry”
“But I’m in charge of all the things getting done and staying in place, getting done, getting remembered and making people feel seen, and you asked me to!”
“Did I?”
“I mean… didn’t you?”
I start thinking about the past few months and all those things. Some of them were me, some of them were things the Lord had given to me. I knew a few weren’t for now but for later. In full transparency, probably half of my to-do list was things I was afraid to let go of, even though I knew I needed to. In fear of missing my time—I tried to find some grit and push forward anyway.
“You’re swimming in water I built a bridge over.”
I was seeking lakes and assuming the Lord meant for me to swim across them. I can do hard things, but I didn’t need to do every hard thing. It was hard to hear, gentle and loving, but it stung a little bit.
It’s strange to feel let down about something, but so closely held by Jesus that it’s soft and inviting. A way to walk down a new, less strenuous path.
My pride tells me that there are bragging rights in doing things the hard way, it will show people my strength, and prove I have grit. Pride in what others think about me quickly becomes an idol.
There’s rest in humility. I may lose my pride and some steps in striving, but it doesn’t mean that I can’t be strong (or stubborn…persevering?). It means I get to be surrendered to a way of life that is replenishing instead of draining. Where there is room for joy and laughter for mistakes. Space to linger at the store in conversation, or give that deeply needed hug.
There is a pace of life where we can live fully, but also be fully present. Move forward with intention, but at an internal stillness that allows His voice to permeate.
Ready to run, but walking with the pace of Grace. We don’t allow fear of missing out (FOMO) to push us forward so quickly we break an ankle.
“We don’t allow fear to control our actions or worry to steal our courage.” —Dr. Edie Wadsworth
I’m re-evaluating my pace, my schedule, and what fills my days. If I can’t hear the Lord— I’m moving too quickly, or swimming too hard.
I’m going to take the bridge.