I heard it the other morning.
That voice, you know the one. The one that creeps up from nowhere, the one that says, “Who are you kidding? You’re not it. You can’t do this.”
Some days, all the things I normally juggle easily seem heavy. Those days, all I seem to hear is “Do more, be more. It doesn’t matter if you have nothing else to give. Don’t fail.”
It’s the Old Lie that gets me. The one hissed in the garden, the one that tells me I should know it all, do it all. I try to carry the weight myself—no dropping, no stumbling, no weakness, no tears. Be perfect. Be God.
But, here’s the thing: I can only go so far in this way before I crack into a thousand pieces. I’m not perfect, and I’m not God.
And so I let Scripture speak truth. I turn to the Psalms when my heart needs healing, and today it is Psalm 46:
God is our refuge and strength, an ever-present help in trouble.
Therefore, we will not fear, though the earth give way
And the mountains fall into the heart of the sea,
Though its waters roar and foam and the mountains quake with their surging.
Sometimes it feels that way—sometimes for no particular reason, a little straw breaks and the world dissolves right underneath your feet. The oceans forget their boundaries and everything that was contained, controlled swells up and floods your life. It overwhelms. You can’t shove the oceans back behind the shoreline, so you have no other choice but to ask for a lifeboat.
And for a perfectionist, asking for help might just be the worst thing.
I’m still painfully learning, but here’s the truth: I don’t know it all and I can’t do it all. It is God whom I trust-- He’s there when things are rough, and even when things are well.
Psalm 46 continues:
There is a river whose streams make glad the city of God,
The holy place where the Most High dwells.
God is within her, she will not fall;
God will help her at the break of day.
There is a river.
I sat once by a river for an entire day and read. It was perfect and peaceful. A river is contained, a river knows where to go. The stream is cleansing, reviving. It is grace.
Like the river, grace refreshes and renews. It is help.
And so I ask Grace. I am not strong enough to carry this all by myself; I was never meant to carry this all by myself.
I do my part, I press on and do the work He gave me, but it is the God of the Universe who is ultimately in control. The God who made heaven and earth is big enough and strong enough. God is God and I am not.
I ask Him and He draws near. My tasks may not change, but the pressure is off. I do not have to be perfect because He is.
I sit by the river and drink. I drink in the Words of life and I am revived by Grace.