Confession: This Semester

Before I get into this’n it’s been freeing to say, “I was wrong.” At the end of the summer I planned out the semester, 12 hours of classes didn’t seem too bad. I’d taken a couple grad level classes before in undergrad so it seemed like it’d be doable. Mom said it was too much – she was right, I wasn’t.

It’s safe to say this has been one of the most difficult semesters I’ve had. Sure some undergrad semesters were hard, and when finals came they were really gross, but this one is taking the cake in the realm of stress, tiredness and changes. There’ve been a few breakdowns.

Taking the workload from school, the job at the church, fostering a new relationship and the normal things of life all together has been rich and difficult. Rich because there’s much to learn and much to be humbly amazed by; difficult because I’m prideful and thought I knew it all and this has been three months of being wrong. (In some ways I feel like a raw blister - hyperaware of failures.)

Yet there are three thoughts, which have made this semester more bearable:

1) Bear your burdens well.

Sure they’re heavy and sure they’re daunting, but they’ve been given to you by God to bear, so bear them well. Be emboldened by the simple fact of knowing God – for his own reasons – planned this.

 2) It’s good to be carefree.

When the moments of relaxing come, take them. Whether they’re on Skype, a phone call, staring at the stars from my front porch, in a book, with the roommates, or holding a sleeping nephew whenever and wherever learn to relax in a moment. 

 3) (This has been the most difficult to remember) your biggest problem has been taken care of by Jesus.

This one is beautiful. At the end of any day you can lay your head down on your pillow and remember it’s not your education that saves you, your job that saves you, your interactions that save you, but it’s Jesus’ death on a Roman cross two-thousand years ago that has saved you.

Sure I don’t remember all of these all the time. But at the end of my life – whenever that may be – this semester will be just a simple dark place in the patchwork of life – the dark tiles of a mosaic without which the picture is lost. You see it’s a perspective thing seeing life from the vantage point of farther along.

Confession of a Restless Pastor

Some things I do well. Some things I do not do well at all. One of those things, which I cannot do to save my life, is rest. Taking naps is difficult, doing nothing is a strain for my mind and turning my phone off is maybe a yearly phenomenon.

But what is rest? Is it playing with friends or taking naps? Sure, physically speaking my body is rested in naps and friends encourage while we do things. But that’s the key; I’m still doing something.

Being rather than doing that is rest. Relying on a sovereign God to complete what he has begun. Trusting him to uphold me in the course of my focus on him. Having faith that God will do what he will do and being made humble by him to accept what he’s done as what I need.

I wrote a post called, “The Thinker’s Thoughts on Thinking,” and much of it has to do with rest, the necessity of turning off my brain. My proclivity is to burn both ends of the candle until I come to not simply a weary state of physical exhaustion but until I get to such a soul-tiredness that all I can do is weep…

It’s sin. Straight and simple, it is sin. To not trust the sustainer of the universe to sustain my being for a day is to tell the omnipotent God, “I got this, back off.” Essentially wanting to redeem my own soul by the sweat of my brow, the tears of my labor, and the blood of my heart. (Check out the personal pronouns in that sentence and try to tell me that’s not prideful.)

Pride is the root of unrest, prideful self-reliance. What must needs be learned is trust. Trust in God to do what he will do for his glory which is very much one with my good.