Prior to lockdown, I was living at an unhealthy and unsustainable pace. A full-time honours student pursuing entrance into a master’s program in Counselling Psych and working three jobs. I was always “on” and never “off.” I did not have downtime. I barely had enough room to eat and sleep. I was beginning to experience anxiety unlike anything I had before. I was irritable, moody, and often overly sensitive. I would go to bed tired, but restlessness kept me awake. I would wake up feeling tired and not wanting to leave my bed. The little social time I had, I wanted to hang out with friends to remain relevant and connected.
When the lockdown happened, I was forced to slow down in every area of my life and honestly, first few months of lockdown was like a rescue mission for my soul. Getting off the crazy train was a much-needed relief. Some margin returned to my life, a slower pace that I desperately needed. I could breathe again, rest again, and smile again.
I became more introspective simply because there was little else that I was doing. Was I getting my identity from my busyness? Why was I so anxious? Should I see a counsellor about my anxiety?
The thought never occurred to me—a psychology undergraduate—because I was so busy, telling myself I was strong enough. Evidently, I had a stigma in my own heart.
The final decision to see a counselor came from an intense relational breakup. I simply could not navigate all the emotions and thoughts on my own.
Before the lockdown, I wore my busyness like a badge of honour and let the affirmations of “hard-worker” drive me into a deep hole. I was very busy, I had high capacity and loads of energy, I did well in school and at work but when the pace slowed down, I realized something painful. I only cared about myself.
In “The Chosen” series, Jesus will say to his disciples before they enter a new town or do something with the townsfolk, “I am going for a walk. I need to pray alone. I need to be alone right now, don’t wait for me.” In the following scene would be Jesus performing a miracle, or even speaking to crowds with a grin on His face, alive, and radiant. And although this is fictional, I can imagine Jesus doing the same sort of thing based on His character. At first, I thought this was an ode to resting first then doing your thing, like self-care action. But what if it is in slowing down that we hear His voice the clearest because of the limited distraction?
A lot of times, especially in the psychology world, rest is often associated with recharging yourself like a battery. You rest so you love better. You rest because you cannot pour from an empty cup. But what if there is another purpose of rest, something that comes from our desire to serve each other as social beings? What if rest is the way that you slow down enough to hear Jesus’ will whisper into your heart? Psalm 23 verses 2-3 says this, “In green pastures He makes me lie down, to still waters He leads me; He restores my soul.”
We are led to a place of rest. Then we are restored.
CS Lewis says, “Humility isn’t thinking less of yourself, it is thinking about yourself less.” What needed to be restored in me, was a love and appreciation for humanity when I lived on such a selfish agenda. The pleasant surprise of learning something new about a friend. The blessing of learning how to move slowly into the day, make plans as I go: not be so angry about surprises. The energy one gets from establishing a rhythm of exercise and coffee talk regularly. The beauty of reading a fictional book, not a textbook. To be honest with you all, I had stopped caring. I advocated my suffering as top priority, a narrative that was incredibly damaging and selfish. What is vastly interesting is that helping and serving others has an overwhelming body of research that states these people live longer and self-report as happier (Brian Goldman, The Power of Kindness).
When I decreased myself, became smaller, asked for therapeutic help, got rid of certain distractions, allowed myself to be active while ‘resting’, and allowed myself to develop a habit of daily prayer, I realized this growing realization of how truly blessed I was. It gave me the push I needed to realize I needed to give of myself, to make time to see the needs of others. And how little I was doing about it because I was so wrapped up in my own junk and the craziness of working all the time and attempting to advance my own academic future. There was no joy nor outward life despite my paychecks and academic accomplishments. And sometimes, it is hard to focus on these feelings for two reasons:
Society tends to glorify hard work and tangible accomplishments, sometimes at the very expense of human beings. It is all about the connections, the sometimes-selfish movement up the ladder. It is simply hard to think about others and be outward when the notice of “making it” in our society suggests a lot of selfish actions and ambitions
A lot of mental health talks invite you to think beyond your feelings: those feelings are not trustworthy. Be rational. Level-headed. Yet we forget, it is those invisible feelings of joy, hope, happiness, sadness, anxiety that Christ wants to come into and perhaps it is how He intuitively speaks to us.
The Lord calls us to be outward people, people of action for others. People who engage in ‘agape love’ and ‘compassionate empathy’. Both types of love have common ground: Love shown by action.
And while this sounds nice and pleasant and something you would find at a card store, it is hard to live out. Truly, how can we pour from a cup that seems half-full or nearly empty? How can we pray when we sincerely do not have the time and do not see the benefit? Anxiousness is a founded feeling, in that it exists and we should trust it. Busyness may be a protective barrier for some. We may have found identity in these things. Or perhaps, this year was not quiet for us and we struggled.
How can we take care of others when our own inner house is in shambles?
Well, the Lord knows your heart. You might as well be honest with where it is at. Those negative feelings, those stressed-out feelings, bring them to Him. I have brought certain feelings of selfishness and I have yet to feel shame in these. I was exposed and vulnerable, but unlike the Bible story of Adam and Eve in the Garden when they were naked before God, I did not feel shame.
In order to quiet my soul, to let the Lord whisper into my heart with utter mercy, I had to let it out. I had to admit, no walls, no sugar-coating, no fear of what God would say about my selfish, negative feelings with where I was at. Sometimes a desperate prayer emerges, “I literally cannot give of myself right now, so I give myself to you. Use me if you wish, but please be gentle.”
God is merciful. I do believe He sees the effort, He values progress over immediate perfection. I think He also values those who give what little they think they have. He is never outdone in generosity. He values those who continue pursuing the narrow way, not those who somehow complete the narrow way. The effort to love by action may start small for you, and even though you have every intention to grow, it may be all you can give right now. “For it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure.” (Philippians 2:13)
God multiplies and magnifies your small, 'yes' even if you think your heart cannot handle anymore. Sometimes, what God wants from us is not a list of what we can do for others, it is the openness to be used by Him. So will you step into where He is calling you?