Tired of Doing it My Way; Pride & Fear Interrupting Progress

I cried today. It wasn't even 6am.

There's a myriad of reasons I could expound upon as possible causes for my tears or the listless toil I've been experiencing, but specifics don't matter. But apparently, I've been like this for a while now. Before opening this draft, I perused the titles of my previous blogs, and there's been a theme, and one I don't like. 

I think it comes from suppressing what I know my heart and soul needs in the name of how this world (read: society) defines self-care, rest, and rejuvenation, which often equates to some version of isolation even though, unlike most writers, I'm an avid people-person. (All while admitting that I am still actually human and do need some of that, too.)

In short, this definition and chasing-of-the wind (thanks, Solomon) has been negatively affecting my art and my efficacy at work and, if I'm honest, my general state of mind.

You know, when Jesus was actively here on Earth doing His Ministry, He would frequently draw away from crowds to be alone with the Father and pray. He did not sneak away just to be alone and do nothing. That's where we get it wrong. That's where I get it wrong. And that's when my stillness becomes not a source of peace but a source of turmoil.

Yes, we're biological. But. 

True rest doesn't come from being alone or an abundance of sleep, and nor does it come from doing nothing. (Being still and doing nothing are quite different, and many folks today believe they are chasing stillness, when really, they are chasing sloth, and just like every other worldly desire, it leaves you more empty than when you first pursued it.) But.

When you are still, you aren't just present. You're actively aware of the world around you and how God interacts with it. How God created it. Its perfect little nuances.

Have you ever just sat in a park and watched a line of ants carry things back to their homes? Or how they'll build a freaking BRIDGE across the water moat in your hummingbird feeders, some of them even sacrificing themselves so that the others can gain access to that life-giving water? Have you ever even watched a fly--something I usually find repulsive--meticulously tidying his legs and wings?

Even down to the things some of us find repulsive or annoying, there is incredible beauty.

But you can't see that when you're just sitting and staring at your phone.

You can't see that when you're "praying," but all you're actually doing is meditating on your fears and worries and what-ifs and worst-case-scenarios.

You can't see that beauty, really see it, when you spend your quiet time zoning off.

All that rest comes from being active.

Rest isn't a passive thing. Rest isn't a lonely thing. Rest isn't even a selfish, self-care thing.

It comes from actively spending time with God, actually praying (i.e. talking with God, not just at Him), and reading His Word, meditating on His promises over your fears or concerns.

In fact, when you try to make rest a passive, lonely, all-about-me thing, it's the complete opposite. Instead of peace, it brings restlessness; instead of empathy and sympathy, it brings a hunger for self-centered self-indulgence or a sense of entitlement; it brings loneliness.

Rest is an active participation and paying-attention-to and sacrifice of your time to the One who created you, loves you, and desires to know you and be known by you. And when you do, it doesn't matter how much sleep you've had, how well you're fed, how busy your schedule is--the angst and restlessness and loneliness and angst just...vanishes. Replaced all by His peace. The true definition of Rest. And then, for me, for example, as a creative, then I'm able to actually return to the work to which He's called me and actually do something, instead of letting myself get distracted by the phone with dopamine hits and shame and self-disappointment because I'm actually avoiding the thing and Thing that will give me the rest I'm actually craving, or seeking real connection with those who love me, instead of vain, fickle support from folks I don't even know on the world-wide-web.

I know this. I live this.

Mostly.

I have read the Bible so many times that sometimes I treat it like a to-do list. Check; read my chapter, now onto what I really want to do today.

Sometimes I even skip reading it for a couple days.

I pray constantly, but as I said above, was it really prayer or more a meditation of my fears and a begging of God not to let them happen, when He's yelling at me to just be quiet and listen to how much He loves me, has already provided for me, or worse yet, shouting about how He's already blessed my requests and then I act like I didn't hear Him.

Because I didn't. I've been too busy complaining and lamenting and fearing and toiling that I haven't shut up or stopped moving long enough to notice His answers and blessings, and I've been destroying the peace He's already given me instead of living in it, as He calls us to do, and as I've done before, but yet keep forgetting--and it's never on the big things like when Mom passed. Oh no; only on the little things. Why do I DO this?

Anyway. And so, instead of listening to Him and acknowledging my blessings, I have been choosing to wallow in my angst and fear and then fret over God's inability or unwillingness to do the things He's already said and done for me, instead of relishing the joy and peace He's given me, as though He'll yoink it away (He won't. It is not His nature and goes against His promises. But as a writer, this is very easy to imagine; we spend our time thinking of worst-case scenarios for our characters and how a simple thing can turn into something major. Fun in fiction, horrid in life).

Oh, how it makes staying obedient hard.

So this is my public confession. At random points, I stop listening and spending time with God, the One who carried me and my sister through the trial of losing my mom, the One who let me be there and help my two older kitties across the rainbow bridge within a month on either side of losing my mom. The One who always provided, and provides, for me financially even I'm not sure how it'll work. The One who gave me a husband who is incredibly patient during my emotional swings and doesn't hold it against me--or God, amazingly, praise Him--and knows that I am human and still struggle with this life despite having the blessing of Christ.

Now. Most of the time, I live in His peace. I really do. This post might not seem like it, but my smiles and joy and laughter and goofiness you see are NOT a mask. They are genuine. But sometimes I marry my fear with my imagination, and then, I forget.

Oof. It makes me feel like Israel in the OT. Good GOD, how patient was He when He was leading them out of Egypt. He did SO MUCH for them and was PLAINLY THERE, and still they questioned where He was, what He was doing, if He was with them, if He would continue to deliver them. We struggle today because we have His amazing Word written down (they didn't; it was all oral then), but can't see Him. They had a column of fire or smoke in their freaking faces and did miracles we still talk about 2000 years later. He was more tangibly visible, and still they struggled.

I read that and go, "HE'S RIGHT THERE, YOU IDIOTS!" and yet here I am. Doing the same.

All of this vanishes like the fake, fickle, cheap lies they are the moment I open His Word. The moment I genuinely pray and spend time with Him. And then I wake from my dream of lies and wonder why the crap I've been doing that, and how on earth I got to doing it again. And then wonder how I can avoid doing it in the future, and sometimes that alone sets me off on an extra-biblical journey to prevent another cycle, which just creates one, instead of staying within the Word.

Anyway. This is getting way too long-winded. Here's my point to this public confession:

I'm tired of feeling like this. I'm tired of harping on this. I'm tired of giving life to these lies instead of burying them and shattering them at the foot of the cross. I'm tired of giving them to God only to take them back because I dare to think I can handle them better than He could (psh. Yeah, right).

But this world is full of enough darkness. Full of enough folks struggling and crying and feeling restless.

This is my promise (to me):

I'm done with it. It'll still happen; I'm still human, but I refuse to keep giving life to it. To keep sharing and expounding upon it. I'm not going to continue complaining about this stuff. I do not want to be known for how I struggle. I want to be known for how I rise. How I write. How I serve. How I love.

So, moving forward, I will simply:

Write what He's called me to write.

Serve who He's called me to serve.

Do what He's called me to do.

Be who He's called me to be.

And stop wasting time chasing false rest, false stillness, false community, false connection, false senses of accomplishment. 

Time to stop navel-gazing, and put my eyes back on my Lord. Not in word, not in an emotional, hopefully-motivating kind of way that can also benefit you--which, if it does, truly hallelujah--but actually do so. For me. For Him. Because I know what He's called to me, and if I don't get myself out of the way, I'll never get there. But with Him, I could go nowhere else, and I'd still be successful, happy, and at peace.

Are You there, God?

It's me, Jessica.

I have seen everything that is done under the sun, and behold, all is vanity and a striving after wind. Ecc 1:14

When all has been heard, the conclusion of the matter is this: Fear God and keep His commandments, because this is the whole duty of man. Ecc 12:13