Today I feel a little like I’m spiraling. Have you ever felt that way? Like you’re circling the drain of life and surely you’ll get sucked down soon? That feeling usually hits me when a million little things are going wrong. This time it’s the fridge being broken, the vacuum still needing put together, the floor being sticky EV.ER.Y.WHERE, Grandma being up and down mentally, school seeming more than a little crazy, not knowing how to help my oldest with anything, not knowing how to potty train my youngest, church stuff being always not quite caught up, work stuff never being anywhere near caught up… Guys, I could go on and on. Life is just chaotic.
Can you relate? Surely it’s not just me… At least, I hope it’s not. Days like today are ones that Satan seems to know just which areas to put the pressure on to convince me that I’m not good enough to be doing what I’m doing. I’m not worth the struggle that people are going through to give me the opportunity to follow this call. I won’t ever do anything that will be good enough to make up for how bad I have been. It’s disconcerting how often he manages to step into these days, which are more frequent than ever, and beat me down with lies.
That’s right friends, they are lies. All the worthless talk, all the beatings, all the negativity that is swirling around me and inside me… It’s all from Satan, and he’s good at what he does. He’s good at drudging up the past. He’s good at making the future seem dark. He’s good at convincing me that today is as wasted as I am worthless. But he can’t do this without my consent. He’s the one who’s not that good.
Some days, though, it’s hard to keep that in the forefront of my mind. And I am reminded of how I felt as a child learning to swim. Ever since I can remember I’ve loved the water. But I know that, like most kids, the deep end seemed like a dangerous place to me. Give little me a kiddie pool, a wading pool, or the shallow end of any pool and I was good. Not the deep end, though. No way…
The deep end of life is just as scary. It’s not an easy thing to step into that much of the mess of our lives. But take it from one who can only breathe air, learning to tread water is crucial; learning to doggy paddle is helpful; figuring out you can swim is freeing; but finally grasping the fact that it’s safe to turn over and float is heavenly.
Most of us have been treading water for a long time. Some of us have learned how to doggy paddle if we have to. And I don’t know about you, but I can even swim when necessary. I’m just wondering if maybe now is when we learn the beauty of being able to float so that we can seamlessly transition from doing the work of surviving with the load we have carried forever to pausing to take a breath before diving back in.
Guys, we were made for more than just survival. We weren’t put on earth to figure out how to make sure the floor gets cleaned or the fridge gets fixed. These things are momentary troubles but for some reason we own them as indicators of how worthy we are. If my youngest isn’t potty trained in time, I’m a failure by the world’s standards, but that’s not from God. In every area of life progress is only made through swimming. I have to remember that. But I can’t dismiss the fact that even just treading water keeps me from drowning.
And learning to float is the best. Being able to just lay back and rest for a moment, putting the cares of the world behind me, below me really, is amazingly restorative. When I am able to just trust that God has got me and relax in his love, I end up in a posture that puts me completely, vulnerably turned toward him. As I drift weightlessly above the burdens of this world, I’m totally available to hear truth, even though the mess is what’s holding me up.
Can you relate? Surely it’s not just me… At least, I hope it’s not. Days like today are ones that Satan seems to know just which areas to put the pressure on to convince me that I’m not good enough to be doing what I’m doing. I’m not worth the struggle that people are going through to give me the opportunity to follow this call. I won’t ever do anything that will be good enough to make up for how bad I have been. It’s disconcerting how often he manages to step into these days, which are more frequent than ever, and beat me down with lies.
That’s right friends, they are lies. All the worthless talk, all the beatings, all the negativity that is swirling around me and inside me… It’s all from Satan, and he’s good at what he does. He’s good at drudging up the past. He’s good at making the future seem dark. He’s good at convincing me that today is as wasted as I am worthless. But he can’t do this without my consent. He’s the one who’s not that good.
Some days, though, it’s hard to keep that in the forefront of my mind. And I am reminded of how I felt as a child learning to swim. Ever since I can remember I’ve loved the water. But I know that, like most kids, the deep end seemed like a dangerous place to me. Give little me a kiddie pool, a wading pool, or the shallow end of any pool and I was good. Not the deep end, though. No way…
The deep end of life is just as scary. It’s not an easy thing to step into that much of the mess of our lives. But take it from one who can only breathe air, learning to tread water is crucial; learning to doggy paddle is helpful; figuring out you can swim is freeing; but finally grasping the fact that it’s safe to turn over and float is heavenly.
Most of us have been treading water for a long time. Some of us have learned how to doggy paddle if we have to. And I don’t know about you, but I can even swim when necessary. I’m just wondering if maybe now is when we learn the beauty of being able to float so that we can seamlessly transition from doing the work of surviving with the load we have carried forever to pausing to take a breath before diving back in.
Guys, we were made for more than just survival. We weren’t put on earth to figure out how to make sure the floor gets cleaned or the fridge gets fixed. These things are momentary troubles but for some reason we own them as indicators of how worthy we are. If my youngest isn’t potty trained in time, I’m a failure by the world’s standards, but that’s not from God. In every area of life progress is only made through swimming. I have to remember that. But I can’t dismiss the fact that even just treading water keeps me from drowning.
And learning to float is the best. Being able to just lay back and rest for a moment, putting the cares of the world behind me, below me really, is amazingly restorative. When I am able to just trust that God has got me and relax in his love, I end up in a posture that puts me completely, vulnerably turned toward him. As I drift weightlessly above the burdens of this world, I’m totally available to hear truth, even though the mess is what’s holding me up.