There Is No Arrival
Last week, I withdrew from a course.
This was a decision most people find easy and obtaining little importance. But for me, oh for me, this decision was in the simplest term—hard. Deciding to withdraw from this course was like creating a giant neon sign that said, “Look what Morgan cannot do!” for all my friends, classmates, and family to see.
Maybe you can relate, but I have this desire to appear together, thriving, arrived. Maybe you can relate, but I tend to “bite off more than I can chew,” as my parents put it. Maybe you can relate, but all I want to do is give and give and do…until that giving and doing is only taking and chipping away at who I am.
This was me last week. It felt as if I was drowning in responsibilities, but here’s the thing: they were all good and beautiful responsibilities. I’m a student, chasing after my professional dreams of becoming a counselor and writer. I’m an intern, I’m a mentor to six incredible women, and I’m a girlfriend and friend. To me, all those sound like gifts, but there is such a thing as too much of a good thing.
In the past few weeks, when my friends would check up on me, I just remember saying, “I feel like the Lord has given me everything I’ve ever wanted all at once…and I’m still struggling.” It is often said that the Lord does not give us more than we can bear, but the reality of our human experience is that sometimes our load is heavy and hard. But in the midst of the hardship, God is similar to the patient-loving father who tucks in their child for the third time after they’ve gotten up to “go potty” or “drink a glass of water.” I’m that child, I just want one more glass of water and then I’m satisfied. Oh wait, now I need use the potty. I’m that child and Jesus is the patient-loving father, always shepherding me back to bed when I’ve lost my way.
My sin is the good stuff. It’s the striving, the dreaming, the helping, and the being involved. Until one day, it’s not good anymore. This season of life I have been showered with opportunities, but it still isn’t enough. I know the feeling of being brought low and I’m currently living the season that Paul describes in Philippians 4—being brought high—but it still isn’t enough.
Rather, this past week my soul felt empty, exhausted, depleted. I came face-to-face with a lot of failures, especially in the realm of school. I tangibly experienced being at the end of my limits as one human, while my flesh begged for arrival and my soul pleaded for grace. I was filled with frustration because I wanted to succeed and do everything well, but it seemed like the harder I tried, the more I failed. I so badly wanted to reach this status of “arrival,” the magical land of success and completeness; basically, a perfectionistic-go getter’s Disney World. I was searching for a magical land that doesn’t exist, as there is no arrival.
And, praise God for that, because my soul could then step into grace.
So, I withdrew from a class, and maybe it did create a giant neon sign that said, “Hey everybody, look what Morgan cannot do!” Truth always wins and the nitty gritty truth is I cannot do it all; and if this past week is a demonstration of what my soul needs, I don’t want to be Superwoman. I don’t need to be.
Instead of chasing arrival, I want to step into the fullness and freedom of grace, because I was created to need Him. Only then will it be enough.
Photo by Sasha Freemind on Unsplash
