Why do I do this?
He sat down and smiled at my question. I could see him wavering between a polite “I’m fine,” and an honest assessment. Our friendship won out, and he confessed, “I’m overwhelmed. I don’t know why I do this to myself.” This friendship makes space for vulnerability and transparency. I nodded understanding. “The answer to that question is the most important one in my spiritual life,” I responded.
I’ve lived so much of my life at an obscene pace. Velocity and will overtook good sense in my life for many years. My busiest seasons, looking back, were the spaces in which multiple priorities overlaid one another. When school, family, and ministry collided, I found few tools to determine the best of good things. The result was too much time lived too thinly, that I wondered if I might be invisible.
I continued to show up, to give, to serve, and to manage but the best of me, the me of me, was often lost in the fray. My life’s commitments swallowed me hole, and my giggle and grin were lost in the hard focused organization that this life required. In the silence of my own soul, I knew that this pace was neither good nor sustainable, and yet, I felt powerless in the face of the sheer momentum.
It seemed that I had few options. None that I could see. That is what speed does to me, it brings the illusion of inevitability. As a certified people pleaser, I would not, could not, let others down. My self image was often more vulnerable to the opinions of others than the whisper of my own soul. I could find no off-ramps, no levers I could identify to help me pull my life back into a more manageable pace.
In this season, identifying the currents that pull me into dangerous spaces, has taken on new importance. I am certain I cannot live the second half of my life by the same rules I lived the first half. In fact, it feels like I have to learn a whole new way of being.
I could point to a dozen things that were true about those frantic seasons. Family life is beautiful, exhausting, and overwhelming when you are in the midst of it. Pursuing the dream of education, took on a life of its own, and eventually made me, well me. My heart and life revolved around a steeple and a group of people I love dearly. And yet, when I look back with the vision only afforded hindsight, I know there was more.
The engine driving my life, was fear.
Fear I wasn’t a good enough
Fear my value lay in my doing
Fear my security lay in the opinions of others
Fear I was too much
Fear I was not enough
Fear that I might miss out
Fear of what others thought
Fear that I could be replaced
Fear that I was responsible
Fear about what would happen if I let go
Fear about what would happen if I didn’t
It is my shame to admit that fear propelled too much of my activity. Underneath the surface of my life, fear ran like a current tugging me out into deep waters. It pulled me into activities and responsibilities I should have said no to. It pushed me away from the primary relationships and toward people who have long since left my life. Fear did not fulfill its promise to protect me, instead it left me resentful, weary, and distant from others.
In this new season, I am finding that this isn’t the only way to live. Miss Toni says that the longest distance between two points, is the space between my heart and head. She’s always right.
I have known that I am loved, and leaned into that beloved-ness for decades. And yet, the past few years, have forced me to slow down long enough to experience it in a new way. Silence and solitude have calmed my soul and opened my life to experience love differently.
I am learning to live out of my beloved-ness, rather than fear. Here I am freer to simply acknowledge who I am and rest in His love. I can acknowledge my longings, my heartache, my desires, and know that they are tenderly held. I can tell the truth, and trust that I am understood. In this space, striving has lost its appeal.
It isn’t perfect. I am wild and willful. My heart roils and rebels when it doesn’t get what it wants, but now I am able to acknowledge the truth of this. The more fully I rest in love, the more able I am to identify and acknowledge the buried truths of my heart. I am less impressed with my own goodness, and far more enthralled with His.
The overflow of living out of your beloved-ness, I have found, is grace and presence with others. I no longer need to save them, fix them, or even guide them. I can simply love them, just as they are.
Don’t get me wrong. People are still difficult, surprising, and overwhelming… but the more comfortable I become with my own complexity, the more able I am to embrace theirs. Love makes space for others to be exactly who they are.
I don’t think this is everybody’s truth. I imagine that there are lots of answers to the question, “Why do I keep doing this to myself.” Each of us, brings our own experience, and baggage, to our journey. I am certain, however, that answering this question can bring sweet relief, and rest to a weary soul.
Such love has no fear, because perfect love expels all fear. If we are afraid, it is for fear of punishment, and this shows that we have not fully experienced his perfect love.
I John 4:18
