Yesterday was a rough day. On the surface, things seemed fine. I was able to enjoy a good run in the morning. The sun was shining, the sky was the blue that’s all at once deep and brilliant, the mountains were glorious, I was able to breathe deeply, my lungs responding well to this thinner air… yes, it was a great morning.
Fast forward to 8:45 last night. In the basement a bunch of our group was watching a movie together. I started there, but suddenly felt I needed to leave. I went to my room, put on my pjs and got out my prayer journal. “Dear Father, I’m done. I’m exhausted and tired out. I feel so frustrated by who I am right now.”
As I cried out to Him, the tears started. Not the gentle ones, but the sobbing kind. I wrote and cried, and wrote some more and cried some more. It was as if something awful and huge was pouring out of me. Out of the ink of my pen, and out of me through those tears.
So… how did I get from a glorious morning to crying on my bed? I’m trying to figure that out! I know I’m still fighting spiritual fatigue from all I was doing before I came to MTI. One of our instructors used the term “Spiritual Anemia” yesterday. That resonated with me.
In the past I experienced severe physical anemia. The lack of iron caused me to feel oxygen deprived. Walking up a single flight of stairs meant stopping at the top to catch my breath. I was constantly exhausted and unable to fight off colds.
The thing is, I was able to function. I looked pale, but other than that, just fine. I could still work full-time and do all the things I had to. But, it took everything I had to do so. Spiritual Anemia works in much the same way. Still going through the motions, but underneath barely able to catch my breath.
I came in anemic and now I’m feeling like I need to be addressing all these new things I’m being shown.
On top of that, I want to try and be in community, but what I enjoy is one-on-one time, not big group activities. Part of me knows I sometimes need to just jump into those, even if it’s not my preference. Once in, I usually have a good time.
But, I am also fighting this notion that who I am is somehow not okay. Is there something wrong with the me I am right now that is going to keep me from ministering effectively? I’m rebelling against that.
When I was in El Callejon I was able to connect with the women in my more reserved, quiet way. Yes, I need to expand my ‘tool belt’ but I also need to be okay with being me. Out of that, I know God will continue to work in me. I tend to be ‘black and white’ and an ‘all or nothing’ type of person. (Any doubt about that would have been shattered if you read my last post!)
Where I was struggling last night as I sat on my bed, crying out to God, as well as literally crying, was trying coming to terms with all of this. In the past, God has worked in my life to take me along step by step. He is so loving He won’t give me up to my own messes, but He also does not typically yank me from them.
Instead, He meets me in them, brings others alongside me, reveals through His Word, through words He gives others, the next area for me to surrender to Him. It’s always a little more than I can handle, but in the Holy Spirit’s power, together we begin.
This morning is another gorgeous morning. It’s supposed to get into the 80’s, so I’m hoping to get out again for another run. After a night of weeping, I am ready to embrace the joy which comes with a new day.
I feel a bit like Jacob. I’ve wrestled and am tired, but not that bone-aching exhaustion. I’m limping a bit as I still have a lot to think through, a lot to process. Today’s going to be another intense day of class. The morning session is 3 ½ hours of Who We Are Under Stress.
But, I am feeling a sense of peace. Not because I’m any more clear on all of this. Not because there are not still a hundred things pressing down on me. But, Jesus has reminded me that He has experienced this type of suffering, and He will not leave me alone in it. He met me last night, and will meet me today.
My cry has not fallen on deaf ears, or ears high and aloof. My cry has resonated with the One who has cried out to God in pain and anguish. Hallelujah, what a Savior!