It seems like all I do these days is run.
I am constantly moving, flying, sprinting through life at a whirlwind pace. School, work, youth group, homework, social activities, sleep, repeat. Life is crammed with phone calls, emails, schedules, money, coffee dates, texts, pointless hours of checking Facebook. The precious moments I have to breathe, I choke with the noise of loud music, novels, TV.
Because the truth is, I don’t want to stop. The silence, the fear, the darkness, the exhaustion, always seems to be just a step behind me. I’m afraid if I stop, it will drown me. I’m barely staying above water as it is.
I tried sitting in the fear and the darkness. For weeks I sat in it, hoping that one day I would wake up and it wouldn’t be so big anymore. But the weeks passed, and sitting in it seemed to do nothing.
So I decided the discomfort wasn’t worth it anymore. And I ran.
But here I am, sick for the 2nd time this semester, my shoulders drooping with an unacknowledged burden, on the verge of burnout. How did I get here? When did I get to this point?
It’s time to turn around and face the waves.
It’s time to pause and listen.
And in that stillness, that scary darkness, in that place I ran from, maybe God will have the space He’s been waiting for. Space to speak strength into my shaking, fearful, weak heart.
Running never did anybody any good.
It just makes you tired.