I’m sitting before the computer screen right now trying to scrounge up a noteworthy blog post.
It’s not that I don’t have anything to write about.
I’m just a little tired.
A little scared.
A little…burdened. Yeah, that’s the one. That describes my state perfectly.
And I’m not talking about the good burden, a holy burden, because I love those. Those weights in your chest & gut that could have only been put there by the Holy Spirit Himself. When you don’t get to decide how to feel or what to do, because God has chosen you for something. Like when Jeremiah talks about that “burning fire shut up in his bones…” (Jeremiah 20:9). I’m not talking about those beautiful burdens.
I’m referring to plain, old weariness under the weight of my own worries & duties.
That kind of burden.
When I find myself in this state it’s like I subconsciously say…”But Lord, didn’t you say your yoke was easy, & your burden was light..?” & His answer is quite obvious: yes He said that, & yes it’s true, His promises are yes & amen. It’s not His will for His people to walk under the weight of what’s expected of them, what’s required of them, or what could go wrong in their life. More simply put, it’s not the will of God for us to walk in strife, worry or doubt. And that’s that, his yoke is easy, His burden is light (Matthew 11:30), it’s us who build the burdens.
Recently, I feel like a Professional Burden Builder. Let me explain, I’m not really the greatest multitasker. I’m more the type of person who invests all energy into one thing at a time. But currently I sing, draw, write, paint, substitute teach, flip burgers, try to do my part in the household I live in, lead a youth group, try to spend quality time with my family who I’ll be leaving for a year, attend church & bible study, go to the gym to make sure I pass this fitness test at training camp & prepare for the World Race. Okay. This is difficult for me. Lol. I think I have a one track mind & with all of this on my plate I am so weary I can barely collect my thoughts.
I’ve cried a lot in the past two weeks, & I’m not a crier.
On top of the regular duties that I mentioned above, I admit I have a lot of worries & fears about what I’m about to do this summer. I’m not stressing over the things that I “should” be scared of, you know, the legitimate dangers in foreign countries. I’m more so freaking out about other things, such as:
– What if something happens to someone I love when I’m gone?
– I’m going to miss out on a year of my baby nephew’s life!
– Oh my gosh I’m going to miss my insanely close-knit family!
– What if I don’t raise this money? I’ve never, ever had this much money. This is like a million dollars. My town is miniscule & the Christian body here is microscopic. How is this going to happen?!
– I have sooooo much to do: vaccines, getting equipment, visas, fundraising events, forever overwhelmed!
– What if something happens to me when I’m gone?
– Okay so this is happening, but what I will I do after the Race? I’ll be ‘Mrs. No Career’ again.
– TIME IS GOING BY SO FAST, AHHHH!
So yeah, I am burdening myself, & all of the above worries reek of distrust. To be honest, I don’t have that much moral support either & that gets me down a bit. I don’t really know who takes me or this trip seriously, or who’s praying for me, or who will be praying for me when I leave. I feel a little bit alone in this endeavor. I hear a lot of “What?! That’s impossible!” when I tell people how much money I need, & also “That’s crazy!” & “Do you think you’re ready?!” when I tell people where I’m going. I have let it discourage me, but I don’t want to let it discourage me anymore.
Because the truth is, for me, maybe it is impossible. And, maybe I’m not ready. But God does impossible things over & over again (Mark 10:27). And chooses the weaklings who the world may not deem ready (2 Corinthians 12:9), because we’re the ones with nothing to lose, willing to be vessels.
I burdened myself out of doubt, out of carnality, out of lack of faith. And I know this because I took this whole issue to God before I brought it to the laptop, & He shows us our sin. And I think sometimes, we go to God & we either want an epiphany of some sort, or a logical method of fixing the issue. But I came to Him with my stress, unable to carry it any further & He answered me with simple words He’s said to people before, from Matthew 11:28: “Come unto Me, all who are weary & heavy-laden, and I will give you rest.”
Me: “That’s what I get? A classic scripture? That simple? Come & rest? No, I want answers & signs & provision, I want to do something to alleviate this pressure!”
God: “Come unto Me…I will alleviate the pressure.”
Me: “But I want an experience or a solution!”
The still small voice still says, “Come unto Me…”
So, I came to Him & it’s like He urged me to keep coming. That was the prescription for my ailment.
I think I understood what He was trying to tell me, that we are in need of Him constantly, & there’s nothing we can do about it. We can come & lay down our burdens at His feet, but He’s not a landfill that we come to, dump our trash in, then walk away from to live our own life until a heavy load accumulates again. We need to come all the time; everyday. If we’re going to walk with Him, we’ve got to meet Him daily, not just drag our feet to Him when we can barely stand up because we went a while without the refreshment of resting in Him, not just run to Him in desperation from something terrifying, but come to Him all the time and genuinely rest in the knowledge of His sovereignty, in the reality if His love. So often I would “dine” with Him (Revelation 3:20), then grab my giant backpack of spiritual crap, bursting at the seams, & strap it back on before I went out into the daily grind. Why would I gird myself with a load He offers to take up, or a load He has already done away with on the Cross? It’s so foolish. I want to be done holding on to excess baggage, & I can be, because the God of the universe invites me to come to Him with my burden & lay it down.
It’s as simple as that.
He gives us immense grace in that invitation, when He beckons us to “Come”, we just need to possess the faith to surrender these loads we were not meant to bear.
