And He who sits on the throne said, "Behold, I am making all things new."
Revelation 21:5
Revelation 21:5
2017. I've heard my dad say several times, over the last couple of days, "Well, it's 2017." And each time he's said this, the words struck my mind, bringing me from whatever train of thought I was pursuing at the time straight back into reality. Another year has passed. Moreover, as of the 25th of December, four whole months have passed since I moved back to Canada.
This New Year's weekend, amidst celebrations, I experienced several different emotions. I felt joy, great joy, as I celebrated, and shared in meals, gift-giving and endless laughter with my family and friends.
I also fell into a time of deep introspection, which is quite natural for me, being the self-reflecting and self-evaluating introvert that I am. My challenge, as those close to me know, has been to focus on the positive things that have taken place over this past year, to not focus so closely and so intensely on the challenging and heart-wrenching things of this past year, or even these past few months. I thought for a long time about my relationship with God, and the strain that this transition has placed on my walk with Him. I thought about the challenges I have faced, having to take a step down from ministry, in order to enter into a season of healing and rest from the damage of burnout.
I felt sadness. I felt sadness, as I thought of my friends and "family" in Oklahoma. I still feel great pangs of homesickness. It doesn't come as frequently, but I still feel the intensity of the sadness that comes with it. I still cry. I cried on New Year's Day, as I sat in church, and thought about all that God has done in my life over this past year, particularly, during my time in Oklahoma. I thought about the people who walked with me through challenges, wept with me in valleys, and rejoiced with me in victory on the mountaintops. I thought of those who still pray for me, even as I live in a different country, and as I go through very different challenges, walk through very different valleys, and long so much for the mountaintops. And I'm sure that, during that time of worship, a mixture of fatigue from New Year's Eve shenanigans (which, for this rather boring adult, included playing board games, eating food, and fighting to stay awake till midnight.) and a lack of caffeine in my bloodstream caused more tears than normal to drip down and to stain my rosy cheeks, as I stood in silence, and for the first time in a while, felt God hold me close, and speak comfort and peace to my aching heart.
Sidebar: I'm sorry that, despite a New Year being upon us, this post has a more sombre tone. The thing is, I no longer see a point in sugar-coating the details of my journey, especially when I am also able to clearly see glimpses of God at work in my heart and mind, even in the valley experiences I face. And those glimpses are there. Little shards of light that are breaking through these dark and difficult days I'm experiencing...
Friends, you may not understand some of the things I am experiencing in this season I'm describing. In all honesty, there are things about this season that I, myself don't understand. I don't know why sometimes I can't sit in a service without feeling anxious, why it's been hard for me to concentrate during sermons, or to sing during worship. But I'm learning, through the experiences of those like me who have been or are in this type of season that these "symptoms" are real, and I have no reason to feel shame about them. Burnout is real, and this is where I am. I blame no church, no pastor, no lay person for what I'm experiencing, because I am a human who made choices that landed me here. You yourself may not be able to understand it, and I'll tell you that it's okay. I didn't understand burnout until I was in the center of it, and I am still making strides to understand it all. There are too many like me who are terrified to talk about it. I hope that my sharing about my experiences will bring freedom and release to others who may be suffering, too.
But the little shards of light...they're there...
...like being able to sing, again. It has been weeks, maybe even months, since I've been able to sing, even standing in a congregation. Transition and burnout has really taken its toll on me, body, mind, and soul, and particularly, on the voice God gave me to sing. That has affected me, more than anything. I can still hear my friend Deanna talk about how much she loved hearing her friend sing songs about Jesus. To know that it's been some time since I've been able to do that, and it may be some time before I can do that again, especially from the platform, breaks my heart.
But I see glimpses of healing, when I can stand in a service without feeling anxiety, and I can sing praises to God without abandon. I see healing when I can feel and experience happiness, not just joy, but moments of a giddy, fall-over-laughing kind of happiness. I see healing when I can think just a little more clearly than I could the day before, can focus just a little more than I could the day before. It comes in spurts, and is not quite consistent, yet...but it's coming.
2017. It's a New Year. It's an opportunity for God to do New Things.
In 2016, God performed miracles in my life. He brought incredible healing. He sent incredible people into my life to walk with me through some very deep valleys and challenging hurdles.
It's 2017, and God is still performing miracles in my life. He has sent incredible people into my life to walk with me through what has been an excruciating season of transition. He has provided a job for me. He has provided a new home for me (more on that in a couple weeks). And even in times when it is so difficult for me to see Him, He reminds me that He hasn't left my side.
There is much to be accomplished in 2017. I have weight to lose, in every sense of the word. Physical weight. Emotional weight. Relational weight. Spiritual weight. I have so much more growing to do. And I can do none of this without the strength and the help of my Heavenly Father, the One who abounds in grace and mercy and love, even when I can't comprehend it, even when I don't deserve it.
As I was driving to church on Sunday, I came across All Sons & Daughters' "Christ Be All Around Me," and I listened to it, on repeat, with tears in my eyes, all the way into town. My prayer, for myself, and for so many who are dear to me, for 2017, is this:
Above and below me,
Before and behind me,
In every eye that sees me,
Christ be all around me.
This year, I pray that I will be more aware of God's presence in my life. I pray that I will draw closer to Him, that I will allow Him to continue healing me, restoring me, from the inside out. I pray that I will see, with my own eyes, how my God is making "all things new" within me.
Here's to 2017. To more brave steps, more valleys, more mountaintops, and so much more of Jesus.
Blessings.
