imagine, for a moment, that you spend most of your time in your head, being constantly bombarded with accusations all day long. they are voices that shout at you from every angle, echoing against the walls of your mind and projecting onto any feasible being. they take the form of what you think others must think of you. they dramatize how others would see you if they really knew you. they remind you of all the ways you fail. they remind you how different you are from how you wish you were. they tell you that you’re basically letting people down constantly, all the time—that’s pretty much all you do, and if you don’t, it’s a fluke. or they say, “it’s ok! just do better! just stop failing!” or they draw comparisons: “if everyone else can do this, you should be able to too. it can’t be that hard.” or they suggest, “maybe it’s because you’re being lazy and stubborn. have you considered trying harder?”
yes. constantly, in fact.
it seems like these voices come from all around you, from everyone you know. you feel confident that no one will defend you, so you withdraw. you raise up walls. you become your own defender. because you don’t believe those voices, not really. except . . . what if they are true? if they were, would your stubborn refusal to listen become your own enemy?
and the louder they get, the harder it is to fight them off. and the longer you fight, the harder it is to get up from each fall. you’ve long ago passed the point of diminishing returns, but it doesn’t matter, because you aren’t allowed to stop trying. but oh, you're so tired, and it just never stops. these accusations and failures and responsibilities surround you, encroaching on you every moment. you struggle to breathe. you struggle to move. you cover your ears to try to shut them out.
in this moment, you remember that you are supposed to lift your struggles and anxieties to God. but you are afraid. you want to hide, not because you think he won’t see you, but because you are worried he won’t get behind you. you’re afraid he will join in the chorus of voices, confirming what you’ve always been afraid was true, that you’re just not doing a very good job at life, that it’s all because of your poor character development, that it’s up to you to be better, and then you’ll represent him well and have his favor. in this moment, you are not afraid that God won’t defend your sins and your failings. you are afraid he won’t defend you.
“Cast all your anxiety on him”—why? “because he cares for you.”
oh . . . really? is that what you've been believing? because it doesn't really seem like that's what you've been believing.
“Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.”
huh.
it seems you may have had the wrong idea about who God is. maybe he’s not like the other voices.
