Tag Archives: Jeremiah 20

Just… tired

You pushed me into this, God, and I let you do it. You were too much for me and now I’m a public joke.. all I get for my God-warnings are insults and contempt. But if I say, ‘Forget it! No more God-messages from me!’, the words are like a fire in my belly, a burning in my bones. I’m worn out trying to hold it in. I can’t do it any longer.. Oh, God of the angel armies, no one fools you. You see through everyone, everything… I rest my case with you.. Curse the day I was born! The day my mother bore me – a curse on it I say!… Why, oh why, did I ever leave that womb? Life’s been nothing but trouble and tears, and what’s coming is more of the same.

(Jer 20.7-9,12,14&18, the Message translation)

“The kingdom of heaven is like treasure hidden in a field. When a man found it, he hid it again, and then in his joy went and sold all he had and bought that field. Again, the kingdom of heaven is like a merchant looking for fine pearls. When he found one of great value, he went away and sold everything he had and bought it.”

(Matt 13.44-46)

Then Jesus said to his disciples, “If anyone would come after me, he must deny himself and take up his cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it. What good will it be for a man if he gains the whole world, yet forfeits his soul? Or what can a man give in exchange for his soul?

(Matt 16.24-26)

I cannot unsee what I have seen. I cannot unbelieve what I have believed. I cannot undo a life of willing and glad surrender to a loving Father. I do not want to do these things, in the deepest places of my spirit, I am bound absolutely in love to my Saviour, and worship with gladness. And yet, I am so tired. I never realised properly before that this is what it means to bear a cross daily – to live as one belonging to another kingdom, who must yet be fully alive to all that is wrong here and now, and suffer all the evils of this broken world.

On the one hand, I know myself beloved, redeemed, securely bound for an eternity and fulness of life beyond my dreams – free from burdens of guilt, free to love and forgive others, free to spend myself for them knowing that there is one who cares for me more than any human creature ever could.

On the other hand, I live with a weight of knowledge – of sin and judgement to come; of the impending departure of so many precious souls to eternal exile; of just how badly broken this world is, and how there is no hope for it apart from Christ; above all, of my own failure to be what I desire to be for him. I live with the reality of prayers which appear unanswered; of the disastrous consequences of human sin, and the deafening noise of suffering on every hand.

I am near to be crushed by the guilt which comes over me when the burden of daily realities is so much more present in my mind, so much more effective in setting my attitudes and influencing my feelings. I am ashamed that I, for whom life has been so smooth and easy, should be finding faith such a struggle. Where is the victorious life of the disciple? Where is the ability to rejoice in trials; to fix my eyes on God’s promises and thus to find joy and hope in the present? The disconnect between how I ought to live, and how I actually live is so great. I could find it in myself to envy the birds, the dumb beasts, all the lively creatures which glorify God by being, and have no spirit to discipline and subdue, no will to wrestle back into obedience. I know that I do sometimes wonder at the cheerfulness of unbelieving friends who seem to navigate life – and often troubled lives – with a spirit of optimism and lightness, unburdened by faith. Why should faith be such a heavy weight to bear, when it is also such a blessing?

Lord, I am just so tired of fighting to be faithful in face of grief, and loss; to be hopeful in the face of profound discouragement; to believe in the teeth of denial that you are at work and doing good things.

I am ashamed of this weakness, and yet convinced that you – who walked this earth, bearing in your body all our human experiences – do indeed understand and have compassion on me. I do not want to dishonour you, but to learn how to walk humbly and fruitfully through this shadow place in trust and obedience. Show me ever more clearly what is mine in my Saviour, that I might value him ever more highly as my treasure beyond price and infinitely worth persevering for. Stir up my desire for a closer walk with you, may your Spirit within enable a cheerful and persevering spirit, to cast out the weariness and lassitude which drain hope and joy. Have mercy Lord, Amen.