Imagine, if you had to work on a job that was 8 hours a day, seven days a week, no holidays and in your off time required to you too keep a face that was good for the company you work for. How long would it take you to grow uncomfortable? How long would it take you to become resentful? How long would it take you to hate your job? How long would it take you to quit?
And here’s the bigger question, once you finally did quit how tired would you be?
Some people may not understand what I’m talking about, but for those who do know, it’s hard isn’t it. To work day in day out. Sure you may have greatness attached to it. You may enjoy your job. You may find satisfaction from it. However, the hong haul shows cracks.
I didn’t understand what that meant or what that even look like until I left a situation that afforded me the space to see what I have been in. To see who I have been with. My life had become, as my friend would say, ‘grass that is grown simply to be cut’. What’s the point? I’m even when I left the Main Place unlock I found I had to be a particular kind of person, I had to show a particular kind of face. Never make those company look bad was the mantra.
The funny thing is it wasn’t a company. It was my church. It was Christianity.
In my new church, if I’m tired I sit down. In my new church, I am encouraged to show off the nitty gritty, the truth, pain whatever is there.
In my old Church however, I found myself a prisoner two religious ideals that I didn’t even share. A way of life that was at best unrest full and the worst soul sucking.
By the end of it I was exhausted…
And I was 18.
I had been actively working since about 9 years old. 9 years of hustling to do whatever they told me was necessary, necessary being a very loose term. I was beyond burnt out and I was a mess. I wonder how I survived honestly.
Working is different from participating and your body can feel the difference.
I spent a year as a zombie, then went to college and after that, with nothing left that anyone told me I had to do…I tipped right off the edge.
All that working had finally caught up to me. The first year I was a zombie again, but the second year was more devastating. All the emotions that I buried so the good girl smile could show all rushed in like the dam that broke in ‘San Andreas’. (Really enjoyed that movie.) The third year the spiritual dam broke and the last year the physical dam.
All that time had caused wear and tear I felt like Noah waiting for the water to finally stop raining, let alone for it to recede.
I was so tired and thankfully mostly alone.
After years of being someone else’s entertainment, mentor, saint, prophet, administrator, pin-up girl, listener, emotional trash can, whipping girl, target and google, I was free to just be myself.
I was hungry, tired, misplaced, hurting, low, FURIOUS, empty, in pain, lost and so done.
There have been so many prophets who ran away after being abused and I would never do it myself because often they were called out by God to get up and keep fighting. So I just kept on.
Till he sat me down himself.
I fought hard about that one.
Resting isn’t easy when christians tell you that it is wrong. Yet how many scriptures does God himself invites us to rest. Yes we see prophets who are called to keep going, but we see times where God has them rest to. Sometimes years and years. So hereally are my years and years.
I’m not even done yet. I’m instilling the time of hygge. For as long as I live, I think. Anything less and I might find myself listening to people in stead of God.
And they sure have no clue what they are doing most days and he always does.