I apologize for the general dreariness in my posts as of late. Truth is, I’m a little burnt out.
The past couple of years have been rough. Big changes, the opening of old wounds, the difficulty of being a music major, and 40 hours a week of minimum waging (hee-yah!) takes a lot out of you. And though things have settled a bit in the past few months (and I’ve quit my job…epically, I might add), I’m not sure if I’ve fully recovered yet.
I’ll have good weeks. I’ll get my act together. I’ll start going to class and not being a hermit and eating food that’s not Oreos and being a functional human being.
Once I’ve got those things down, I’ll feel like I’m ready to take on the world and so I’ll do crazy things like go to counseling and write about my painful past and stop cutting and go to church.
But then depression steps in and reminds me who’s boss. “Can’t let you be too functional, now, Sarah. Don’t get carried away.” And I get tired, burnt out. I skip classes. I stay in bed all day. I neglect my homework and my friends.
I give up.
We all get burnt out now and then, though, don’t we?
Maybe life is like that children’s song, “This Little Light of Mine.” We’re all lights. And I don’t believe that that applies only to Christians. Every person was made in the image of God, and every person (regardless of beliefs) can give this dark, messed up world a little glimpse of heaven.
But did anyone else learn the other verses to that song? I remember one that went like this: “Don’t let Satan blow it out. I’m gonna let it shine! Don’t let Satan blow it out. I’m gonna let it shine, let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.”
With the knowledge that we are meant to be lights of the world comes the knowledge that out light can burn out or be blown out. It happens to us all the time.
Our little lights are fragile. And I don’t know about you, but when my light goes out, I tend to give up.
I know that the Holy Spirit keeps an endless supply of matches lying around and that he’s always willing to set me on fire again (that might be the weirdest sentence I’ve ever typed).
But I’m afraid of getting burnt out again. I’m afraid of the dark that comes with that. So I stop caring about the rest of the world and I hide in my room and keep my light to myself.
That’s where I’m at now. I didn’t want to write this blog post. I don’t want to write anything ever again. Because I don’t want to put my thoughts out there anymore where I’m vulnerable. Where Satan can attack me with a fire extinguisher.
But then I remember another verse from that song: “Hide it under a bushel? NO! I’m gonna let it shine.”
I don’t even know what a bushel is, honestly. But I know that my “bushel” is isolation. Withdrawal from the world. Retreat to my nice, safe room.
I’d like to hide there, but I’ve gotta shine. Even if my light is small and gets blown out from time to time.
I’ve gotta let it shine.