“The fear of letting go is strangling the freedom of rest.” I read these words at Jacque’s place tonight as I was editing this write, and they served as confirmation.
It’s difficult to let go, unplug and walk away from online life, even if it’s just for a week. It takes faith. I wonder every time, but less and less, “Will my voice go unheard because I’m going quiet?”
Last summer I decided every seventh week, I’ll unplug. Six weeks of blogging and social networking, and the seventh week — rest. I schedule and plan around it.
Refresh and rejuvenation for my spirit and soul, drawing in close to God and waiting on Him to breathe new life.
Refocus to see clear the vision God has given me, turning my heart and actions to Jesus and His purpose for me.
Renew my devotion to the God, guarding my heart above all else, proving that I have a blog and the blog doesn’t have me. <–Tweet
It can be hard.
But it’s harder to write from a tired place. Everything is hard when tired. In that place, I find myself battling falsehoods I should be far from believing.
Feeling as if that blogger’s success amplifies my failure.
And why should I bother when there are a thousand others saying the same thing?
And how can my one voice be heard out of a million others?
Before I can catch myself I’m being overrun by the waves that come crashing — rogue waves of discouragement. The pummeling pounds me down. I feel lost, shrouded in darkness that presses in on all sides. While trying to find my footing, I wonder, “What hit me?”
The un-likes, un-follows, and un-subscribes knock the wind out of these sails. Who am I kidding?
Knocks. Me. Over.
And I see the dishes have spilled out and over the sink — overtaking the counter tops, too. And mounds of clothes cascading out of their baskets and covering the laundry room floor slowly creeping their way into the hallway and kitchen. And they might knock me over, too.
And books sit shelved I’m to be reviewing, and friends I want to be tweeting, and kids I should be teaching, and maybe I’ll catch up on Dowton Abbey, instead.
I’m running this race, and perhaps I’ve entered the wrong one. Maybe I should go this way. Or perhaps — that? Being double-minded, tossed to and fro makes one unstable in all their ways. (James 1:8)
“And you should be writing right now,” I tell myself as I switch back and forth from Facebook and Twitter, and get swept into the never stagnant stream. And do I notice, my stream has become stagnant, and the river has stopped flowing and words have run dry?
And I falter under the weight of the burden I carry — wife, mama, daughter, sister, friend. I realize again I’ve taken the place of the Burden-bearer and have been doing it in my own strength.
I’ve gone off course as I’ve gone to the left and then right, eyes on what everyone else is doing rather than where God’s leading — His Voice growing more faint. And mine, too.
And can I say it? I. Want. More. Readers. But what about the audience of One?
Somewhere in the midst of the busy and the noise my loyalty to the One has been divided and the “one” un-like and the “one” un-subscribe steals the desire to hear the applause of the One I’m supposed to be writing for.
I pour out and I give. I give when I feel I have nothing left. What good am I to anyone in my family or even God, if I am running on empty? This is not light-living — becoming disconnected from the Vine, trying to connect to everyone else. <–Click to Tweet
And I’m confused, and I’m weary, and I’m maybe I should just quit. Just. Quit. Blogging.
And I know I’m missing the mark — His mark.
And when I’m in need of rest is when I struggle most.
“Jesus left the crowd and went into the house.” (Matt. 13:36 NCV)
Though surrounded by possibly twenty thousands fans, He turned away from them. Christ repeatedly escaped the noise of the crowd in order to hear the Voice of God.” — Max Lucado
And maybe we need to also. Every blogger — escape the noise — find quiet.
And find God.
I’m talking about burn-out here, and how I endeavor to prevent it. What about you, friends? How do you guard yourself and your family against it? I’d love to hear.