Coming Home III: Moving From Striving to Trusting

“If you work hard enough, you can do anything you want.”  

“Next time, I’ll just work harder.” 

“ I’ll sleep when I die.” 

I’ve thought and said all these things over the course of my adult life. And, other than the last one, these are wonderful principles and ideas to live by, but not when it causes you to start moving in the direction of the last statement.  No rest. 

Beneath that striving was more than exhaustion. It was a trust problem.

When I decided to create this series of pieces and make them a visual story about my own spiritual journey of transformation (which is ongoing), I knew I had to address this deeply rooted and insidious tendency within my heart.  Not just because I am in good company with my destructive driven-ness, but because coming to terms with this tendency and finding ways to intentionally move beyond it has been critical in activating all the other areas of spiritual growth I’ve experienced in this past year.  The story would be missing a major chapter if I didn't talk about learning to trust.

When I finally had language for what was happening inside me, it was through John Mark Comer’s book The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry. He describes the symptoms of hurry this way:

1. Irritability & Hypersensitivity

2. Restlessness

3. Workaholism (or non-stop activity)

4. Emotional numbness

5. Out of order priorities

6. Lack of care for your body

7. Escapist behaviors

I could check all these off as part of my daily inner life, maybe you could mark a couple off as well.

While I couldn't see it in the moment, I discovered in this journey that a lack of trust was at the heart of my driven-ness.  I had this idea that I had to be the one to make things happen. If I backed off, people would be disappointed, or worse yet, I would not even know who I was.  My identity was so wrapped up in my busy schedule and work that to stop would feel like death.  Ok, so I guess I had trust, kind of.  Trust in myself.  I just wasn’t trusting God.  At all.  I said I was, but my hurry, busyness, and anxious activity was telling the truth.

How did I start moving from striving to trust?  It came with one simple change.  Simple, but not easy in the least.  I started practicing sabbath.  Once a week, I stop all my work.  Domestic and professional and I spend 24 hours leaning into delight and rest. This required so much trust on my part.  At first, it was painful and uncomfortable. 

Since this was brand new for me, I had to rediscover what I might like to do for fun and for renewal. Sadly, I had no idea what that might be, so I just tried a lot of things.  Hiking, reading, napping, doodling, being alone, being with friends, etc, etc.  I had to sit with the person I had become, which was someone who didn’t know HOW to rest and enjoy life because every moment was filled with a task or activity to prove I was valuable.  Maybe that was getting dishes cleaned up so I could feel worthy in my home.  Maybe it was sending in proposals for potential projects to feel successful as an artist.  Maybe it was researching how to be a better mom to boys, etc. 

This practice has been a part of my life for the last three years.  I do it imperfectly, and my practice of Sabbath constantly changes and shifts depending on our schedules and our family, but I continue to make it a priority, reconfiguring my week so that I can keep that day sacred.  Just this small change in my weekly schedule changed everything, really.  It moved me from striving to trust in a very tangible way and it continues to form who I am as I continue in my spiritual formation.  I made space to be.  Space to live and breathe and trust that I would be fine, my business would be fine, and my family, friends, and community would be fine if I simply stopped for one day a week.  

You may have noticed that in this piece of the collection, this one has the most sky and “rest” space.  That was very intentional. The figure is also looking up, pausing rather than acting.  Trusting rather than doing.  And her faith and trust is outside of herself, which has been an important lesson for me. Having my trust anchored in the God who holds everything together, rather than myself, has only come about as I’ve had time and margin to rediscover His character and what He actually says about me in Scripture and through His Spirit. 

Sabbath created the space for trust to take root and grow so that I could finally start believing that I was Beloved and didn’t need to prove my worth through constantly striving and doing.  I can simply be.

If any of this feels familiar, maybe your next step isn’t to do more — but to stop. To make space. 

To trust that the world will not collapse if you rest.

If you want to see the complete Coming Home Series, click here.