Baggage

Last night was not an easy one for me, to put it mildly.

I was just getting ready to go to bed. It had been a long and exhausting, but all in all, a productive day. I went to seminar in the morning, got started on my annotated bibliographies for class, made some more copies for two short stories I plan to use for a class, and finished one of my content methods books (Connie Weaver's Teaching Grammar in Context. A big help for you practicing English teachers out there). Watched snatches of the BCS championship game, then tuned it out when it became clear the BCS (and ESPN) had once again picked a paper champion to win it all and the Gators were going home with the crystal. Not too much interest beyond that.

Anyway, bedtime was looming. But as I knelt down to pray, my mind felt troubled. For some reason, the reality of my present circumstances suddenly caught up to me. I had not truly processed how quickly my life had begun to change with the onset of senior year, student teaching, and all that came with it. I had to take it in stride, keep on moving, and let it all roll off my back. But it hit me all at once last night as I prepared to talk to God. Suddenly I realized something: things were never going to be the same again! Like it or not, the world of adulthood is here, and I feel scared and unprepared to face it. Things are only going to get tougher from this point on, and when you let it, the prospect of life's mounting difficulties can overwhelm you.

So I decided to hash it out with God. I knelt down on the carpet and just let it go. Confessed all that was troubling me, things I was afraid of, worries about screwing up, letting down the people I loved, everything. And in the process, it was like a dam broke loose inside me. Holding back a tidal wave of emotions. So I let those out as well. My prayer wasn't that God would remove these trials or make life easier for me. It was a plea for faith. A cry for assurance. So much baggage had accumulated in my life, so much unprocessed stuff, and because I had not brought it to God, it lay inside me like waste. Not harming me directly, but just creeping there beneath the surface, waiting to bust loose. When you have that problem, it's a sign that you're not being as honest and forthright with God as you need to be. God wants your heart, and He doesn't accept half-hearted committment. That involves honesty. A willingness to be broken before Him. To let God touch you, and see yourself the way He sees you.

I don't mean to scare you or suggest that your prayer life is lacking if you don't have experiences like these. That's not for me to say. However, I can attest to the liberating feeling you get when you come clean before God. It makes you want to keep talking to Him. You don't want to stop; it feels so pure, so intimate because you've forgotten. When I finished hashing out my baggage, I didn't feel any less nervous or daunted for my future. But I did feel a renewed sense of the one thing in this life that never, ever changes: the love of Christ. I can't describe what it's like to be flooded by his merciful, unconditional love, the knowledge that Christ loves you for who you are, and that you are His child. It goes beyond liberating. It really does.

My challenge to you is to have more times like this in your prayer life. Let go of the barriers holding you back from that intimacy, that closeness with the Spirit of God. Don't pretend to be perfect or have all the answers or know exactly what to say in God's presence. See yourself the way God sees you. Remember Who He is, and what He has done for your sake, and just let go. Give everything over to him. Your fears, doubts, insecurities, blessings, praises, requests...everything that's on your mind. Keep your relationship with Jesus Christ a communal one (communion should be a daily practice not reserved for the Last Supper) because that's how you grow in the faith. Because we all need to lose some baggage in our lives. Don't worry. God can take it.