Hey there, reader. Can I just be honest with you for a minute?

I’m exhausted. I’m drained. I have nothing left to give. Every action takes a concerted effort, and let me tell you, I’m done trying.

Now before alarms are raised and you flood my phone with encouragement and love, let me tell you: I’m not giving up. This isn’t a post about self-harm or me walking away from Christ.

I’m just being real with you.

I’m tired.

To get up and bear my cross isn’t as easy as it was in the beginning. I now have to try, and just being real right now, my flesh doesn’t want to try any more. My flesh wants to sit, and mope, and moan. My flesh wants to cry and scream and push everyone away and let me be.

And I tell God this. I tell him I’m done. I tell him he can’t make me anymore. I tell him he chose the wrong person and I don’t care what those people in the Bible did, I’m not going to be like them and I’m not going to follow Him. And He takes it. He doesn’t push me to be stronger than I am. He doesn’t reject me or remove His love from me. He takes it. He lets me be a brat. He lets me run away. He lets me give up. Because He knows me better than I know myself. He knows I can’t do this on my own.

He knows my heart is heavy and I’ve tapped out.

And I think he waits for moments like these. I think he waits for me to wear out, so He can come by and restore me. So He can be strong in my weakness. He humbles me so I can realize that I can’t do anything apart from Him. How has He reminded me, you ask? God has two main ways He’s spoken to me. His Word, duh. And music. So when I run away, when I refuse to pick up my Bible because I don’t wanna, He gently reaches out to me in song.

I started feeling drained last Thursday. Last Thursday my doctor told me I had a molar pregnancy. I don’t know what that means, honestly. I don’t want to Google it because Google does this awesome thing where everything is cancer and you’ve got two months to live. I don’t want to go through that right now. To the best of my understanding, I had a partial fertilization. The egg grew up to a certain point, and then like everything else in my life, it gave up. But because I am weird and therefore my body is weird, my body decided that we should grow a dead egg for kicks and giggles. Welcome to my life. So Thursday she said what was once a 2 cm blighted ovum (once again, don’t know much), is now a 4 cm mole. That’s right. The scientific term of what I’m “growing” is a mole. But could I leave it there? Noooooo. My pessimistic side had to know worst case scenario. Worst case scenario? I have cancer and will have to have a hysterectomy. Welp. That’s awesome. Let’s just add that to my growing list of frustrations and anxieties.

So Monday I had to have a D&C, a surgery that removes the growing tissue. And everything went soooo smooth. Seriously. Procedure was 15 minutes. Recovery has been painless and a breeze. Because of the Lord and everyone’s prayers, I felt fine the minute I woke up.

But then the next day came. And now the next day. And the worries and weight of what’s to come is now in front of me. And it’s not going anywhere. I can’t ignore it. I have to go in and be tested for at least six months to make sure all is well. I can’t move past this one spot for six months. We’re in fertility limbo, and I hate it.

And because I hate what’s in front of me, I am ultimately saying I hate what God has planned for me. You can be sweet and tell me that that’s not the case, “I’m just having a rough week.”

“Who else could handle it as well as you have?”

“No one expects anything more from you.”

“I wouldn’t be handling it as well if I were in your shoes.”

Excuses abound, and I have been trying on these excuses for size. But ultimately, they’re excuses. And excuses are reasons to run away from God and not fulfill the purpose God has for you in this life.

So back to God reaching out to me. I haven’t picked up my Bible since Thursday. Just being real, just having a confession time. It’s not right and there is no excuse. As a leader in my church and a follower of Christ, that is NOT ok. And I’m sorry to those who look up to me or rely on me in some way. I failed you this week. I know you’re already saying to yourself, “It’s ok. You had a rough week. You don’t have to be strong all the time.” No, I don’t. But I need Christ all the time. I need his daily bread. I can’t live on last week’s bread. I need DAILY bread. I need DAILY refreshment. The MINUTE I start doing life on my own strength, that’s when things fall apart. And you deserve better. My ministry deserves better. The little kids I watch DEFINITELY deserve better. And I am sorry I went through the motions this week because I was weak.

So it started Thursday. My heart just cried out the song, “Worn,” by Tenth Avenue North. “I'm tired, I’m worn. My heart is heavy, From the work it takes to keep on breathing.” And that phrase just kept repeating and repeating. And God responded, but dang it! He didn’t respond the way I wanted him to. I wanted to hear God say, “Take a break. Rest. Breathe. You’ve earned it.” NOPE! God responds with, “Oh God be greater, than the worries in my life. Be stronger, than the weakness in my mind. Be louder, let your Glory come alive. Be magnified.” It’s always got to be about God doesn’t it? He can’t just let me have a moment can he? (Sarcasm, for those who don’t know me very well.) So I, being the selfish human being I am, ignore him. Sounds like a great plan, right?

I wish I could remember all the songs God has used this week to reach me, but let me tell you, it was a lot. So much so, that I changed my station to anything else I could listen to. And then, of course, God had those stations just be terrible so I had to drive in silence.

Then we get to today. We get to BSF. We get to hearing God’s word and being surrounded in worship and I just felt drained. I have nothing to give. I don’t want to give. And once again, God gently reminds me that I am no longer my own. I was bought with a price. I have the mark of Jesus on me, and it doesn’t matter how far I run or how loud my surroundings are to drain him out, there will always be a part of me that wants Him and will come back to Him.

So I drove home, and in the quiet of my car, I told God my feelings. I was bare. I was raw. And I was tired. And how does He respond?

“I know your heart been broke again. I know your prayers ain’t been answered yet. I know you’re feeling like you got nothing left. Well, lift your head, it ain’t over yet, ain’t over yet.”

It ain’t over yet. Ugh.

Then staff bible study:

Acts 14:21-22

“When they had preached the gospel to that city and had made many disciples, they returned to Lystra and to Iconium and to Antioch, strengthening the souls  of the disciples, encouraging them to continue in the faith, and saying that through many tribulations we must enter the kingdom of God.”

DANG IT, MIKE!

So here I go. Well, more like here God goes. I’ll be the one at the end of the line kicking and screaming and just looking like an absolute fool. But I’ll be there. It won’t be pretty, but my flesh will not win. God wins every time. And He will win in this journey as well.

Galatians 6:14

But far be it from me to boast except in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by which the world has been crucified to me, and I to the world.