Learning to be Carried

I don’t know where along the way these posts turned into so much vulnerability. In all honesty, I’m not sure how I feel about it. When I look at my life, all I can see is God. How could I not? In my 27 years, I have attempted suicide probably twice as many times as I have years lived. I look at my life today and I am absolutely speechless. I have no idea why I am so important to God; if it were up to me, I wouldn’t have made it past 5th grade! I don’t know why I am so blessed or favored by the Creator of the universe, and I know without a doubt that everything I have is because of His grace.

I cannot express how incredibly hard it is to break cycles of generational pain and trauma. I have this instinct to just "do." This instinct to prove my worth. I have always been the one with the answer (it might be the wrong one, but hey!). Especially as a nurse—family asks you questions, patients ask you questions. I learned I am a pillar of support for my patients and their families.

Here is the thing about being a "pillar": pillars don't just stand there for decoration. They exist because something above them is heavy, and something beneath them is solid.

For 27 years, I’ve tried to be the one holding everything up. I’ve tried to be the fixer. But the Hebrew root of faith, ’âman, taught me something this week that shifted my perspective. It defines faith as "fostering as a nurse." When I look back at those years—the darkness and the times I shouldn't have made it—I realize I wasn't the one standing. I am the one Isaiah 46:4 speaks of when it says,

"Even to your old age and gray hairs I am he, I am he who will sustain you. I have made you and I will carry you; I will sustain you and I will rescue you.

I was the one being nursed. I was the "infant" in the definition of faith. I wasn't "doing" anything; I was simply being held by a Support that refused to let me drop.

I’ve realized that I get into trouble when I confuse my role with my identity.

• My role: The Nurse who finds solutions

• My Identity: The nursed child who is held by God.

The reason it feels so heavy right now—the reason I’m exhausted—is because I’ve been trying to "nurse" my own life. I’ve been treating God like a supervisor I have to report to, rather than the Nurse who is currently carrying me.

If you are like me—a fixer, a cycle-breaker, a doer—it is okay to be the patient. It is okay to not have the answer. Faith looks like a child who has stopped kicking and finally just rests against the chest of the one holding them. I’m learning to be like the child in Psalm 131:2, who has stopped struggling and finally just rests against the chest of the one holding them."

"But I have calmed and quieted myself, I am like a weaned child with its mother; like a weaned child I am content."-Psalm 131:2

I am blessed not because I am strong, but because I am held by Someone who is.

This lesson will more than likely be one I will have to constantly relearn, and I may very well write another post someday saying the exact same thing. And that is okay, because as it turns out, that is what the Bible calls faith.