Recently the only thing I've been hearing, over and over again, is
"The pressure's off."
But right along with that, just as frequently, He keeps saying I'm "in over my head."
There's the challenge of love, true love.
See, it's about more than just happy days and comfortable moments. It's more than just challenge and struggle. It's the perfect balance of both.
On one hand I find myself relieved and encouraged in the knowledge that I'm not in control. It's almost joyous knowing I don't have to control or even understand the outcomes of my decisions.
I can merely listen to the best Father, because ultimately He knows what's best anyway, and follow what He gently directs.
But I don't have control.
It sounds romantic, beautiful, even perfect to follow the perfect father's wisdom, but there is the fear that lingers still.
Though the Father is good, His children are not of the same kindness or goodness. When I follow that way my Papa would prefer, those around me fight, struggle, yell, tell me I'm a failure or I'm wasting my life.
As I look at my heart, my desires, the faith I hold dear, it's the easiest thing in the world to give up control. He knows what's best anyway, so why ever doubt him?
Yet likewise my sacrifice of what I think is best, or what the flesh would have me believe ultimately either leaves me under the control of others, who would tell me God is wrong or I don't hear him, or else I lose those relationships I would hold dearest.
To choose between the way of the earthly father and the way of the Heavenly father, that is the most painful thing to do.
I spoke to a wise mentor of mine the other day and he told me this was the hardest season I would ever face, which is exactly what God has been saying anyway.
A week ago, I said farewell to the oldest friendship I had, dating back from 6th or 7th grade. The friend trashed me, hurling false accusations at me and assumptions that I'm a terrible friend, that all I do is trample people. So I must fight in the midst of a tension that plays on the line of true conviction compared to self condemnation.
Following Christ is going to result in false accusations that will hurt like hell and cause pain you should never have to bear, but it will also result in true conviction that I can either ignore or grow from.
That's where it is encouraging to me that I'm in over my head. Because I know I will deal with my fair share of both situations. The only thing that will keep me from either pride or self hatred is my total reliance on a Father that will both discipline and encourage me. He knows best, and as such it is the most beautiful, fulfilling sacrifice in the world to free fall into the arms of my Beloved. I can't control it, but the sacrifice is only for my benefit anyway, so why would I want to control it?
And see, even though my life will have a good portion of conviction and challenge in it, and I won't know how to become the person I was designed to be in the first place, there is still that wonderous promise, the gentle whisper of the great Comforter, that gently reminds me, every day, all the time,
"The pressure's off."
I don't need to have it all together now, and it's okay that I don't live up to the highest standard. After all, the only reason my Papa set that standard to begin with was to help me become whole. Hammering my soul with the lie of perfectionism is the exact opposite of His gorgeous plan.
I can't expect to live life abundant and at the same time wear myself to nothingness through the lie that I must be perfect now. That lie will destroy the very joy and life you seek so desperately to obtain.
"But how do you become happy with yourself? I think it comes down to living authentically and kicking harmful obsessions, like the idea of perfection, to the curb. Perfection does not equal happiness." - Ingrid Nilsen
One thing I've been learning recently is the art of consistency. If you want to grow in a healthy way, be consistent, not complacent. Don't be stuck doing the same thing over and over, but at the same time, don't assume that you have to have it all figured out in one go.
If you make a mistake, don't beat yourself up, but learn from it and grow. That doesn't mean you won't ever make the mistake again, but it does mean the difference between being enslaved to something and struggling with that thing. As someone once told me, freedom doesn't mean you'll never struggle, it means you learn how to win quicker.
So where now it might take a week of healing to get over one incident of feeling rejected, if you keep processing, keep being stubborn enough to choose freedom, eventually what took weeks will now take minutes to brush off, and eventually you won't struggle with rejection again.
It's the art of daily sanctification. You are holy, so there is no pressure to be perfect when in a Father's eyes you already are holy. Yet also you are being made holy, day by day, hour by hour, through the conviction and discipline of the Holy Spirit.
Consistency.
It is not toil to be sanctified daily, it is a good work, and you must not remain complacent in your faith, but rather consistently be purified and made holy.
Sanctification is a habit, not a one time deal.
For that reason, the Sabbath is called a day of atonement. Weekly you should be coming to the Father and laying yourself down again and again, pressing more and more into him as weeks progress into months and years and you grow into the life He has called you to.
We will never be able to get our lives under control. That is part of the curse of sin. That though we might pick weeds, they'll spring up again in another week. It shouldn't fill you with shame when the weeds pop up, but you shouldn't let them keep growing and choke out the fruit you are attempting to bear. You should weekly be going out, routinely checking for the weeds so you can keep them from causing damage.
I'm in the beginning stages of learning what that life means.
Still I find myself drowning in weeds planted by others, and though it's unfair and I shouldn't have to even deal with the weeds, I must struggle to be rid of them, in order to be truly healed.
I'm learning the hard lesson of being in over my head. I can't control anything but my own actions, and the ramifications of giving up the pain of others which I've weighted on myself is enough to terrify me.
Though it is beautiful to give up control, it is painful. And I'm learning the full depth of that reality, through floods of tears and months of my false identities being torn apart, the unhealthy relationships being ripped away, and being sown together into a masterpiece.
We all want God to construct us into something beautiful, but we forget in order to do that he must rip away the old and broken, that which is torn and burnt, and in order to sow the beauty back into us, he has to use a needle, over and over again, consistently, persistently, until we are holy and whole.
That is the beautiful hardship I mull over as the future is terrifying and uncertain and the past so broken I can hardly bear the pain.
All I can do is fall, free and fast, headfirst into the deepest waters, because that is where the healing begins, and that is where His arms will catch me, as I fall and continue to fall, deeper and deeper.
"And you crash over me,
and I've lost control but I'm free.
I'm going under, I'm in over my head.
Whether I sink, or whether I swim,
Oh it makes no difference when I'm
beautifully in over my head."-Bethel
But one thing I remember, and this I hold onto dearly for it is the most beautiful reality;
The pressure is off. I'm free in His arms.
