This year has been one for the anxious. But I have been thinking a lot and learning to trust in community being able to bear one another's burdens, as Galatians 6:2 mentions. And it has eased my mind. God has been faithful during this time. I know there is hurt in the world, but I cannot stress about being the savior of it all, but to try to address what is feasible to me to handle. Please don't shame me for this, for I always think I can do more, but such thinking can spiral me off course again. I have to work the problem before me, one manageable step at a time.
There is a song that came to mind again this year (As well as "This Year" by the Mountain goats, an evergreen anthem that really found deeper roots -covered live on both days of the band's Jordan Lake Sessions concert last year.). But this song is called "Faint Not" by Jenny + Tyler. I may have written about it before, but here it is again. It starts a bit rough, but it smooths and builds on itself. It is about problems we face as a society and how our hearts are not strong enough on their own to bear the weight of caring about them. There is a need to overcome, but we need to look to the Lord for the strength to carry on when we are weak. I really found the song apt in the last year with issues that surfaced to stark focus.
Another song is Rich Mullins' "Hope to Carry On", which is worshipfully triumphant about Christ's life giving us hope and an example to follow. But I am more personally fond of his song from a Liturgy, a Legacy, a Ragamuffin Band (One of the albums most dear to my soul for its electiticism and passion) called "I'll Carry On". I remember this most vividly when I put it on during a car ride with my dad to commute to college campus. I was feeling fatigued in the middle of a semester, wondering if I was on the right path for my major and where it would lead me in life. But this song felt so first person, talking about leaving home and setting off, holding chin up to the uncertain future, equipped with two strong hands and the memories and support of his community. It reminded me that I was not alone and I needed to leverage that confidence and support others had given me throughout the years.
I often had a habit of getting overwhelmed by self-doubt and anxiety spirals over things that looked like insurmountable obstacles in my path. But it was my pride that whispered I was responsible for overcoming them on my own. But I had others around me with the same path, and I could discuss what to do about it together. Another mental scenario would allow me to consider if I made myself vulnerable by admitting doubt and a need for help, whether another person would scoff and dismiss my concern as weak. But this was my fear, and it is also reasonably common. It takes a brave and honest soul to be the first to open up the door to a desire for collaboration when there is the possibility that the doors could be slammed shut multiple times along the way by the jealous, individualists, and the insecure. I am not blaming or shaming them. But college can be competitive at times and collectivist in others. But however many group projects were assigned, there were still those in the first camp who did not trust others and refused to risk the fate of their grade upon the behavior and work ethic of others.
But even self help and business books stress that the world operates on interdependence, which is frightening to realize that the underpinning structure of the world is an intertwining of economic fates. It requires trust in the work of unseen hands and minds that they will hold up their ends and jobs so that there is not a mutual cascading failure that affects all parties' lives. It is either mutually assured construction/destruction. Big idea and theory, which can be comforting or worrying depending on how in control you feel about your own life at the moment. Small things build outward to bigger bases of foundation and comfort.
But I am called by God's example not only to trust others because of mutual self-interest, but to actually care about others regardless of how it benefits me. There is a line in Rich Mullins's song "Damascus Road" that drives this home for me, "I say I wanna give you glory, Lord, and I do. But everything that I can think to offer comes from You. So if my darkness can praise Your light, give me breath, and I'll give my life to sing Your praise." And this life is a gift I cannot repay, my rebirth and redemption in hope of a clean future even more so. But it is a relationship that is built on trust, and humble admission that I cannot earn it. It does not make sense that God would give me this hope, but I am grateful for it.
Maybe I am a fool when witnessed by others who do not acknowledge my God to praise Him for something that I cannot help - just being here. If God created everything, why are some things still broken and I feel wrong and empty at times? Life does that to people, Job 1:21-22, even after great loss, one which I have not experienced, nor might have the same faith and trust if it did. But I do not rest in brokenness, for I have hope of better and want to play my small part in making it better. I love C.S. Lewis's The Problem of Pain, a book that wrestles with the idea of what pain and suffering have to do when reconciled with the belief in a gracious God. Simply put, if this world be so awful and hurtful, what is the source of drive and frustration within us that this world SHOULD be otherwise than the way it is?
But this answer is not satisfying to all. And I would have to try my best to find a means to communicate it to those willing to hear me out. I can't save everyone, nor appeal to everyone, but I don't have to stress like that. I need to have confidence that God can use others like he uses me, that together we all can minister to our communities and bear one another's burdens. It is not on me to be overwhelmed and exhausted, but to trust that Ecclesiastes 4:12 holds true as well as Matthew 11:25-30.
The title track of Jars of Clay's "The Eleventh Hour" project haunts me sometimes, but the chorus calling for rescue from doubt is sometimes all too tempting. But "I Need You" from the same album is a more directed and trusting spirit and I should reach for that footing more often. As well as their other song "Valley Song (Sing of Your Mercy)" which I encountered before I grew to love the band and had clowned on their sincerity. Because to be that honest and vulnerable about trust and redemption takes bravery to admit as I stated earlier, and in my immaturity, I did not have that humility. Another song from the "Furthermore" project of live and demo songs by Jars of Clay is now one of my favorites to come back to visit when I need centering for my wandering heart and mind. "Redemption" is a perfect song for me in this regard. I still don't claim to know why it was written, but it means something to me. God bless the poets, the patient, and the providers who showed me grace and hope before I recognized the full depth of my need.
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