Last week I was stunned by a sudden, persistent thought: "I want to quit."
Quit what? I tried to puzzle through that vague-but-startling declaration, and after some time and prayer, I realized what I meant. The last few months have felt like swimming through an ocean of changes, chaos, fear, and grief. I've done my best to "just keep swimming" and to stay afloat; to stay above the current of hurt and panic all around me without adding to it with my own fears and heartache by staying positive, encouraging others, counting my many blessings, and otherwise striving to be a light in this dark time. All of these are good things! All of these are things I think God wants us to do! At some point, though, I think I must have made one grave mistake: I started swimming through all this stuff in my own power rather than relying on God. See, He knows I'm a human. He knows that just as everyone around me has been struggling and hurting, I have a whole heap of intense grief and loss that has completely wracked me inside, too. Rather than pausing long enough to let Him or anyone else recognize that or help me, though, I've been determined to keep moving forward and to "just have a good attitude" in spite of everything. The result? This week I fell apart. For no apparent reason. My heart and my mind just kept screaming, "I want to quit! I want to quit!" over and over. As I recognized that, I literally envisioned myself flailing away in some deep, dark sea, and then just suddenly stopping and sinking down, letting all of that grief and fear and anger and loss close in over me while I sink to the bottom and can just rest.
"That's what I want to do," I confessed to God, "I can't keep doing this. I'm too tired; tired in every way a person can be tired. I want to quit."
And you know what? As soon as I thought that, I felt Him whisper, "What if you did? What if you just quit? What if you just stop swimming?"
"That's what I want to do," I confessed to God, "I can't keep doing this. I'm too tired; tired in every way a person can be tired. I want to quit."
And you know what? As soon as I thought that, I felt Him whisper, "What if you did? What if you just quit? What if you just stop swimming?"
I was shocked. "Wait, God. You WANT me to sink? You want me to cave in to despair, and get sucked into all the craziness, and just accept that life is terrible?"
I think He probably chuckled a little bit. "Who says the only options are to sink or swim? What about floating? Why don't you let me carry you for a while."
Now one of my favorite things in the entire world is to float on water. A favorite memory with my husband was when we rode float tubes down the Deschutes River together; one of my very best birthdays was spent paddle-boarding with a dear friend; and most of my favorite summer memories last year had to do with kayaking on lakes and rivers with my kids and our friends. So the invitation to float rather than sink or swim? That's one I can definitely take God up on.
I think most of us can relate to this scenario, right? The world and all of our circumstances right now are very much like a really big, very tumultuous sea of change and chaos, fear and panic, grief and loss. And even if we haven't been personally affected by current events, I think all of us can look back on a time when life felt as overwhelming as a raging ocean. All of us have to find some way to navigate these rough waters, and it seems to me that we have three options: Swim, Sink, or Float.
What would each of these look like? Well, to me, swimming means doing all of the work in my own power; ignoring the pain and hurt; just putting my head down and pushing ahead no matter how tired, weary, and sad I feel.
What would each of these look like? Well, to me, swimming means doing all of the work in my own power; ignoring the pain and hurt; just putting my head down and pushing ahead no matter how tired, weary, and sad I feel.
- It's facing every moment of loss with an automatic reminder to count my blessings, without allowing much time or thought for the pain or grief.
- It's stopping any acknowledgement of how hard the season is by reminding myself, "Others have it so much worse! You have no place to complain."
- It's shoving aside the deep ache I feel in missing things that have changed with "it's done and over with, and it's never coming back; you need to just look ahead."
The opposite extreme is sinking, which means not only acknowledging that the waters around me are intense, but choosing to just let them take over while I give up. That looks like...
- Letting those moments of loss absolutely drown me in sorrow and grief, until that grows into resentment towards God as some kind of harsh, cruel "Taker", which consequently hinders my faith in Him.
- Complaining about how hard things are, to anyone who will listen, without taking time to ask God for help to get through it and seeking ways to make this season work
- Pining after my old life, refusing to move ahead, and stewing in discontentment and anger because this is NOT what I wanted.
Somewhere in between those two options, though, is that invitation from God to just float. It's recognizing the circumstances we are facing, and also the fact that we are not equipped to handle them, and then turning to Him for help.
- When I face grief and loss, I can respond with, "Lord, this hurts so much. I don't understand it. I know, though, that you are good, even in this loss. Please give me your comfort."
- When life just starts feeling like too much to handle, I can cry out, "Father, this is such a hard season. I wish I didn't have to deal with these things. I'm thankful for the mercy you've shown and that things are better than they were, and at the same time I am struggling so much. Show me what to do, and strengthen me."
- And when the thought of so many things changing brings with it the awful, deep ache that honestly takes my breath away sometimes, I can confess, "Jesus, I miss my old life. I miss my friends, my routine, my dreams. I don't know how to move ahead in this season, but I know you have me here for a reason. Help me to be content."
As I was talking to a friend of mine this week about all of this, she shared some very cool insights about "just floating". When we float, we are able to rest and notice things around us more, whether that is the scenery around us, or even others around us who may need help. Floating puts us in a better position to be aware of the beauty still around us, and also available for what God wants us to do, because we aren't so busy fighting through the waters ourselves.
The verse I've chosen as my life verse is Psalm 46:10, which says, "Be still and know that I am God."
Another translation says, "Cease striving and know that I am God."
If you, like me, have been striving with all your might to swim through challenging waters on your own, will you take that invitation from Him in this season? Cease striving, be still, and let Him take over.
And if you've allowed the sea to overwhelm you and cause you to sink down, I can tell you that I have been there before, and I know that if you call out to Him, He will "draw you out of deep waters" as Psalm 18:16 tells us. Let Him pull you up and show you the good things that can be found when you rest in Him.
And if you've allowed the sea to overwhelm you and cause you to sink down, I can tell you that I have been there before, and I know that if you call out to Him, He will "draw you out of deep waters" as Psalm 18:16 tells us. Let Him pull you up and show you the good things that can be found when you rest in Him.
Seasons of rough waters are intense and overwhelming at times, Guys, but we serve an incredibly faithful God who promises to never leave us or forsake us, and who says that He will equip us for every good work. We can trust Him to carry us through; all we need to do is float.