Stop Doing

There's a pile of half folded clothes on my bed. The floor needs vacuuming. I should put the clean dishes away. I’m half-way through the ten page paper I have due on Friday. There’s work to be done for fundraising for my trip this summer.

I began folding my laundry tonight while it was still warm, which is a blessing in and of itself. While I was folding, I mentally I went through everything I have to do before 8:30am tomorrow morning. (It’s important to know that all I really want to do is sleep.) While folding a shirt, I found myself leaning on the pile of unfolded clothes for a few minutes. And I realized something.

I haven't stopped in weeks. Months, maybe. I am always moving. I took a hike yesterday morning and spent time breathing in fresh air, taking some pictures of beautiful creation, and singing out God’s praise… But I kept moving. I was up before 8am yesterday morning, stayed up until 3:30 last night (this morning), and was awakened by my alarm at 8:30 this morning.
I just do not want to do anything. And I find myself feeling like this when there’s so much to do. Not only physically, but there is a lot to wrestle down emotionally. Autumn has been like that the past four or five years. I can’t tell if it’s psychological or not.

Wrestling needs to happen, I’m sure, but I’m not sure how to go about it. For one, I’m dealing with pain from the ending of a friendship and determining how to love this person now. I’m also contemplating new and changing friendships. I’m questioning motives and debating purposes and wondering why God brings circumstances and people into my life. Good things, but still confusing things.

I just want to sit here wrapped in my fuzzy white blanket and avoid that ten page paper. I want to know what’s going to happen in the future. I want to have the words to say to make things right. Time, yes. Time does not heal all wounds, but it helps the process. I must allow myself time.

I must stop running. Stop moving. Stop hiding behind obligations and duties. The end of one of my ministry roles greatly helped me to stop hiding behind things I “had” to do. I became aware of the time I actually had in my schedule. I have discovered that I am more than the ever elusive schedule. And I will not let it control me. One of the ways I’ve hidden is by controlling time and activities and planning and organizing. Good qualities, but not when taken to the extreme to which I took them.

I’m not hiding anymore. I’m growing into more of me, which is really cool. And I’m learning that my significance is not based on if my room is clean. It’s not based on what grade I made on that test or what service projects I signed up for. It’s not based on my schedule or what I do or who I pretend I am. My significance is not based on me, strangely. It comes from God and the innate importance and pleasure he finds in me.

With all of that in mind, I ask God that I could just stop and rest and know his love for me and know that he is God and Lord of my life. I am valuable to him not because of what I do, but because of who I am. And I pray that I could love those who hurt me, I pray that I could find peace mentally and emotionally when I feel like I’m in an uproar. I pray that I wouldn’t get distracted by everything and anything that pops up in this head of mine.

So here I sit, eating my Mississippi Mud Pie Fudge from the “Hansel and Gretel” Candy Shop and listening to Mumford and Sons. I’m planning to go to bed in the next fifteen minutes. I’m going to stop thinking and stop planning and stop striving and let God do his thing. He knows what he is doing. I am called to trust him. Depend on him.

And never stop hoping. Because I have worth and importance in the eyes of my Savior.

So come out of your cave walking on your hands
And see the world hanging upside down
You can understand dependence
When you know the maker's land

So make your siren's call
And sing all you want
I will not hear what you have to say

Because I need freedom now
And I need to know how
To live my life as it's meant to be

And I will hold on hope
And I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck

And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I'll know my name as it's called again

The Cave, Mumford and Sons