THOUGHTS ON STRUGGLE

As part of my readings for the course I'm taking, I came across this bit on struggle that is rather insightful. It's from Joan D. Chittister's "Scarred by Struggle, Transformed by Hope."

Be blessed.

There is no one who does not go down into the darkness where the waters do not flow and we starve for want of hope. The life goes out of life and there is nothing left to do but simply follow routine, hoping down deep that we will not really have to go on much longer. It is a sad and barren time.

There is no one who does not have to choose sometime, someway, between giving up and growing stronger as they go along. And yet if we give up in the midst of struggle, we never find out what the struggle would have given us in the end. If we decide to endure it to the end, we come out of it changes by the doing of it. It is a risk of mammoth proportions. We dare the development of the self.

...

Something else I have come to know...: All struggle is not loss. All those who struggle do not give way to depression, or death of the spirit, to dearth of heart. We not only can survive struggle but, it seems, we are meant to survive in new ways, with new insights, with new heart.

MAKING SENSE OF IT ALL

Last week, I had another vivid dream. Whenever I wake up remembering the contents of my dream, I usually write it down and ask the Lord to show me if there is any significance in it. I believe He does speak to me through my dreams. And more often than not, He gives me insight into what they may possibly mean.

A couple pieces of advice I'd received from someone more familiar with dreams was:

1. Ask yourself, what was the emotion I felt in the dream?
2. Remember whatever the content of the dream was, it's about me. (So even if I dream that someone else is sick, it's not about them getting sick, it's about me and my response.)

I applied this advice to my dream and I was surprised to discover another angle from which to look at my burnout.

In my dream, I was at some sort of camp or retreat center and our activity for the afternoon was a scavenger hunt of sorts. We were to collect aerosol cans that were hidden throughout the building. We started off. I noticed that some people in the group went very quickly and then lost interest, choosing instead to go back to their rooms and socialize. Others were really slow and hardly found anything. I, on the other hand, went steadily along through every room and managed to find many cans that others had missed. I felt proud of myself for persevering and finding a whole plastic bag full.

Then we gathered to look at the results. As I took the contents of my bag out, I was shocked to see that half of the containers were more like dish detergent containers! They weren't aerosol cans at all!! I felt so confused and embarassed. How did I not see that before?!

As I sat and asked the Lord what this strange scenario could possibly mean, He brought this to mind... Perhaps the aerosol cans represented the tasks that I thought I needed to accomplish: evangelism, worship leading, fellowship leadership, doing well in school, etc. The dish detergent containers were the activities I had been involved in that in retrospect weren't essential and weren't actually in line with who I am created to be. They weren't the things I really wanted to have in my life, if I was honest with myself. (Or I might go as far as to say they weren't things God wanted me to have in my life.)

So even though I perceived myself as diligent and competent (perhaps more than others even), the reality was that I was making work for myself and "putting more in the bag" than was necessary.

Part of my coming to terms with my burnout, now that my former activities are exposed for what they truly were, is that I feel a sense of embarassment and confusion about it. I hadn't realized this about myself before I had this dream. So I think God allowed me to dream this in order to know this about myself.

JESUS FEEDS THE TWELVE

One of my bigger fears as I've walked this road of recovery is running dry and burning out again. This past week, God graciously addressed my fear and allowed me to peer into a bit of His heart.

I was reflecting on the passage traditionally known as "Jesus Feeds the 5,000" and as I observed myself, I noticed that I was feeling progressively angrier as the story went on. Jesus knew His disciples were tired, so why did he plunge them into another day of ministry? And to top it off, He assigned them the impossible task of feeding everyone! What kind of way was that to treat those who'd committed their lives to Him, those whom He loved most? I felt indignant. And perhaps in a small way, I felt like one of the disciples.

I slept on it. The next morning, as I was brushing my teeth and getting ready for the day, my thoughts turned back to the story. What was God trying to say to me? And then I saw it. At the end of the day, after the crowds had ate their fill and everyone was slowly dispersing back to their homes, the disciples gathered up 12 basketfulls of bread and fish. That was one basket of food each! I suspect that as the crowds were eating, the disciples also had a chance to eat. So Jesus essentially not only fed the 5,000, but He fed the 12 - for a whole week.

It became clear to me that Jesus loved His disciples all along. He knew that in asking them to do what they thought was beyond their means, they would be the ones most blessed. In the same way, I can trust that the Lord loves me. And even if (or when) He asks me to stretch beyond my capabilities, He will not let me lose out. In fact, I will emerge having gotten the better end of the deal, so to speak.

Perfect love casts out all fear. How very true.