I have been working on my next big writing project for awhile now. I want to know how to know God more; I want to know how I dwell with God in a world that never slows down.
On one hand, the answer seems easy: you just do. You read His Word, you talk to Him, you go to church – these things are spending time with God. I get that. But often I feel like something is missing, or that I am missing something. It doesn’t feel like I’m doing anything that’s yielding any results in my relationship when I’m doing these things. I don’t feel any closer to God and I certainly don’t feel like I’m becoming more like Him. I just feel like I’m doing more.
I know God is worthy of my time.
I know I am better for having spent it with Him.
And yet, I struggle.
Honestly, I have walked away from this project more than once in frustration, intending to quit. I try to “work the program;” I read the Bible hoping for inspiration. I pray that God would show me what He would have me know. Sometimes it comes, and I write. But so often lately I’ve ended up with frustration, rather than inspiration. I do not have to tell you that this is not a great headspace from which to write a book about growing closer to God.
I know the answer will not come in the form of a checklist, and I am not interested in simply adding more “should do” items to my already-full plate, but isn’t doing more how we achieve results in life? Something just beyond my comprehension keeps enticing me back to this question: How do I dwell with God? I cannot shake this feeling that the answer lies with Him and who He is and what He will do, and not what I will do. Certainly, I am part of this process though, right?
I’ve been wrestling with what this looks like for months with no answers to be found; turns out, I needed shoulder surgery to start learning what I need to know.
I had shoulder surgery in the beginning of December. I planned to take it easy for a few days and then be able to manage the Christmas chaos same as I always do, albeit with one arm. But to my surprise, I could not. I felt tired and foggy (thank you, pain meds.) My arm hurt if I tried to do too much (where are you now, pain meds?). As a result, I did much less “Christmas” than I normally do. I simplified in areas I typically go over the top. I didn’t volunteer for the things I normally do. And I said no to some fun things just because I wasn’t up for them.
And when Christmas Eve came, and we sat in church for the candlelight service, I savored it like I never have before. Not realizing it at the time, as I look back, I see that for the first time in a long time, my heart had the capacity to appreciate the Christmas story because for the first time in a long time, there was room for it. My inability to do more greatly increased my ability to just be more. My heart could dwell with God because it had space to do so.
These insights are just coming to me now as I reflect back. At the time, I knew I felt content during the Christmas Eve service, but other than that, all I felt was frustrated. I could not wait to start physical therapy. I just wanted to DO something to feel like I was making progress in getting better. I knew therapy was going to hurt, but I thought as long as I “work the program,” my shoulder would get better quickly.
However, I did not anticipate how tight my shoulder would be. Because of my particular type of injury, the post-surgical goal was tightness. Welp, it worked. When I started therapy, my range of motion for my shoulder joint was a measly 8 degrees. Basically, no movement. It’s hard to do exercises when the joint you are supposed to be moving will not move. Very quickly, I found myself cheating to make it feel like I was making progress. I used muscles around it and changed the position of my shoulder to make myself feel like I doing better than I was. I stopped engaging the parts of my shoulder that needed to be stretched in order to be healed. I was going through the motions, but not in a way that would affect actual change.
It will do me no good to “work the program” if I do not engage the muscles and joints that need to be stretched and healed.
As I sat there in my painful stretch, not moving but simply holding it in a place of discomfort, I realized that the same is true when I try to “work the program” in my spiritual life. I cannot work the program – read my Bible, pray, check off any checklist items I come up with – if I am not engaging the muscle that needs to be healed and stretched. I will not grow closer and learn to dwell with God if I refuse to engage my heart in the process. My heart is where God within me dwells; my part of the process is to allow Him to do within it what needs to be done. Going through the motions – no matter what they are – will not produce results, because results come from His changing my heart, not from any “religious program” I am or am not working.
I now have much to revise in my next big writing project. But I am excited to do it, not only because I have two functional arms for typing again, but because my heart is engaged in the process. I am ready to dwell with God.
It’s as if you’re in my head! Spiritual wrestling, lack of progress in physical therapy and all! Thanks for again sharing your heart with such vulnerability. This was just what I needed to read this evening.
I’m in good company! So honored He used this to speak to you tonight. Prayers for your own PT. 👊🏼
I feel this comes into play with our parenting as well. Tonight as I was trying to get my twin seven-year-olds to calm down, listen and actually get ready for bed, I realized that if I sat down with them as they were getting ready, they were able to move through the process in a more timely and organized fashion. This allowed for us to have time on the couch reading stories together…and allowed me a wonderful time to be able to dwell with them because I was willing to dwell with them in the midst of the chaos of getting ready for bed.
Yes! Such a good point Rebecca! When I let go of my agenda a bit, our days almost always go better. I’m humbled how many times I’ve almost missed (or have missed) moments with my kids because I’m too focused on my busy work. Love you friend!