INHALE EXHALE

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I deeply inhaled tonight.

I inhaled a distaste for some of the requirements it's taken to survive certain seasons of my life. Not all of the requirements, of course. I can't say I'm not very blessed. I am. And I wouldn’t want to be anyone else other than me. I love me. I know I am a fabulous human being. So, for all I have and all I am, gratitude is non-negotiable and I'm truly thankful. But some parts. Some gut-wrenching parts, that’s what I’m talking about. The crushing that’s produced my sweet-smelling oil (likened to when olives are crushed).

The cost. The price. It’s heavy.

While I lay here tonight, I’m fully aware that blessings would be found if I held God’s hand, went on a treasure hunt and searched for the diamonds in the dirt of 'those parts'. But in this precise moment, in all honesty...  I don’t want to look for them.

Not yet. Not right now. 

Tonight, I’ve also inhaled the distaste that beckoned me into necessary solitude to shut out the world’s unbalanced positivity-on-steroids declarations - many of which have no real heart - just hype. I'm blocking out the never-ending “everyone look at me" inventories and facades of people’s photoshopped lives. The excess and toxic obsession with grind till you die/goals/rat-race shenanigans and the so-called “advice” from people who ironically aren’t even doing what they say they are doing - whose hearts and characters aren't vetted, and all the other mixed-motived imagery and verbiage that overload our ear gates, eye gates or literal physical environments in some way shape or form daily. Sometimes it’s from far away sources, sometimes it’s closer to home. 

Even so, the helpful things... the good things... the genuine... the edifying and even the lighthearted comical things that bring lightness and brightness to the day, are great.  But to be honest, tonight - I'm simply not feeling any of it. Not only because of the sensory overload but because of the thing that won’t get any airtime, accolades or applause: life overload. 

Simply put, I find that sometimes this thing called life is simply exhausting for people.

Flat out EXHAUSSSSTINNNG. 

And I'm not talking about the type of exhaustion that five good nights of sleep cures either.

I am in no way glorifying it, I'm merely acknowledging it. Perhaps if more of us gave our souls a voice and answered our hearts' door to what knocks for our attention, with ears we’ve intentionally trained and developed to listen and be a safe place for us instead of masquerading our shattered souls every day, we'd be a lot more free. 

But with all this said, amid the tonight-ing of tonight and my utter exhaustion there's this fundamental factor caught up in the mix: I love God. I really love Jesus. I love the fullness of all He has revealed Himself to be and I’m still learning Him. But just because I love God and reverence Him, doesn't mean I can't admit when I am fed up and when my soul is weary. Because real suffering screams, and I’m not deaf. So yes, I love God, but more than one thing can be experienced at the same time. And I'm unapologetically not prepared to smile or breathe through it tonight.

I simply don't want to.

I’ve permitted myself to converse with the parts of my humanity that many of us purposely ignore because it's too uncomfortable. I say this in love, respect and as an encouragement to other believers in Christ (and to unbelievers alike who have an “I do it all, and I can't afford to fold because it shows weakness/lack of faith" complex). Just because we love God and walk by faith and not by sight, (and/or if you're doing it all, or just under huge weights and have tapped out of facing how it's truthfully impacting you) it doesn’t mean we are literally blind, deaf, or numb to the very real discomfort of our experience. We don’t have to show up in the world like the Terminator in every moment of our lives as if Jesus Himself never wept (whilst still being King of Kings and Sovereign). As if Jesus Himself when He walked the earth, didn't regularly step away from it all for times of solitude (and prayer). So, subconsciously or consciously emulating a 'Terminator' type of life won't produce an effective one. It’s a misguided survival mechanism and self-destructive fantasy.

Flesh covered over a robotic structure that never burns out, or ever feels anything real is not our design. That kind of existence is more exhausting than enduring the exhaustion of the circumstance itself and it’s not what I believe God wants for us. I mean... if we are more or less indestructible, all-powerful, all-knowledgeable and saviour-like what exactly did Christ leave His throne and shed His precious blood for? Are we infallible or imperishable? Do we know our beginning, middle and end? Have we become our own gods?!

We are not Arnold Schwarzenegger. He is an actor. Our lives aren’t movies, this is real life. It sounds obvious but if it’s so obvious, why do many of us live like it’s a crime to say this is just too much sometimes? The half-flesh/half-robot persona is special effects and make-up. It's fiction. When life's machine guns ravage us with a million rounds of gunfire we don't need to say like Arnold, "I'll be back” 2.1 milliseconds after the fact. Perhaps we should at least admit that something is drastically amiss and then say, "Yes, by the grace of God I'll be back, but right now I'm mash' up and I need to attend to this part of myself that’s seriously malfunctioning.”

So tonight, I'm simply lying down, taking deep breaths, blank-faced staring at the ceiling, blinking tiredly and reflectively in much-needed silence and staying in this moment. I'm not "positive affirmation"-ing it away. I'm not even quoting a scripture right now because I can’t. That will come later, but right now my sighs or my tears that I can’t even shed will be my prayer in this moment. That's the privilege of having a relationship with The Omniscient One(all-knowing). It's intimate. I can sigh and He understands. I can drop my head and droop my shoulders in deep frustration or curl up in a ball like a child if words fail me and He can give every movement of my body accurate and precise language and translate it better than any philosopher or interpreter. And even if you don’t know Him, He still has the power to hear you and meet you in your affliction. Even your affliction has a sound.

How exact His knowledge of us! How generous His estimation! How tender His regard! - Spurgeon 

In understanding I'm fully known by God, I acknowledge the reality that I'm not only spirit but soul and body too. If He knows me, then He knows me fully. And some of those parts are beyond exhausted. It goes like that sometimes. And that, ladies and gentlemen, is what is called - LIFE. This doesn't make me pessimistic or a complainer. This doesn't make me "less Christian" either. This makes me an honest and holistic one*

And I'm good with that.

I prefer God to work with who I truly am and meet me where I am found. That way true transformation occurs in me without wasting precious years of my life chiselling through false layers of who I pretended to be instead.

But that’s just me.

Hmmmmmmm... It’s out, now. I'm a little lighter. A little more restored. Truth had its way.

I have deeply exhaled.  

Goodnight. Xx

*holistic - meaning I believe God is concerned with every aspect of my being and I relate to Him as such.