for the one who feels too tired to go on
How can life be good and hard at the same time? How can you hold two seemingly contradictory truths in the same two hands? Why does bittersweet encapsulate so much of life as a seeming oxymoron?
These are the questions I’ve been asking myself of late.
On the one hand, life is beautiful. I have a lovely family and a quaint little home. I have a good job and financial stability. I wake up next to my favorite human every morning. But on the other hand, I have conflict at work and church, I have deadlines that overwhelm me, and I feel I never have enough time for all the good that I want to do. Sometimes I fear that I’m not working towards anything and I’m not making the most of my one wild and precious life.
Since April, I’ve felt weary and burnt out. This feels silly to admit, because my life is, by all accounts, good. But the truth is, I’m tired. I feel overwhelmed by how much I don’t know. I feel buried by the sheer amount of gray I see in a world I wish was plain black-and-white. There are so many things to do and so little time.
And I know I’m not the only one who feels this way.
Our culture is a mess of burnt-out individuals. Everywhere I look I see eyes dark with lack of sleep, bodies moving zombielike throughout the day. The global pandemic worsened our already exhausted situation by adding another element of distrusting others on a deeper level. Instead of looking out for each other to support and care for one another, we’re looking out for each other defensively, trying to protect ourselves from the next onslaught of opinion and rhetoric.
We have a remarkable capacity as humans to both love and hurt each other so deeply. An encouraging word or a curt comment have such a drastic impact. Trying to get through the day is daunting sometimes.
Today, I was feeling particularly fatigued. I have to leave for work at 6:55 am. But I was sitting in bed at 6:42 am, my thoughts running wild. Getting up felt like a chore. Once I finally did get up, I felt like I was going through the motions, getting ready and scurrying out the door. At work, my feelings of drudgery did not dissipate.
Finally, I sat at my laptop to write during my lunch break. As I powered my computer on, I remembered a line from a Shane & Shane song: for the joy set before me.
Your heart burst at the seams
Flowing with blood and with water
A song of love pouring out from the tree singing
For the joy set before me
For the joy set before meTen thousand strong
You're the fairest of all
Fairest in Heaven and Earth
Of the children of men
You're the fairest of them
Fairest in Heaven and Earth
This song is based on a passage in Hebrews, which reads, “Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight, and sin which clings so closely, and let us run with endurance the race that is set before us, looking to Jesus, the founder and perfecter of our faith, who for the joy that was set before him endured the cross, despising the shame, and is seated at the right hand of the throne of God (Hebrews 12:1-2, ESV).”
If I look around at the situations in my life—unideal work prospects, conflict, drama, or the state of the economy and political climate—of course, I’m going to be stressed and weary. And let’s face it: it’s a ton easier to fixate on the negative things than the positive. I don’t usually ruminate on the good things in my life. It’s pretty much all negative.
But, because of Jesus, I can do things for the joy set before me. I love this passage because it acknowledges that not every part of life is going to be wonderful. There will be hard things. There will be bad days. But rising above all of that is a transcendent hope that goes beyond your present circumstances: weeping may endure for a night, but joy comes in the morning. This life is not all there is.
If you’re struggling to carry too many heavy things today, friend, you’re not alone. I’m right there with you in the thick of it. But I’m also clinging to the truth that there is joy to come. If not here in this lifetime, then certainly in the next.
Let’s carry on, one day at a time—even one moment at a time, if necessary—for the joy set before us. We cling to this hope and persevere. Yes, we are tired. Yes, we are discouraged. Yes, the things we face are very real. But thanks be to God, we have Jesus to fix our eyes on.
I want to close with one of my aunt’s favourite quotes from preacher Tim Keller:
“Our bad things will turn out for good (Rom 8:28),
Our good things can never be taken away from us (Ps 4:6–7), and
The best things are yet to come (1 Cor 2:9).”
In the words of C.S. Lewis, courage, dear heart. This is not the end of the story. There is joy. And if not, there is still God.
