Who God Created You To Be

There are times I just want the noise to stop.

The demands to soften; the hustle to hush.

I know the clamor is often loudest in my mind.

The calm in my voice betrays the volume of my thoughts.

My nerves are often as spent as my body,

And rest feels more like another’s luxury than a reality.

I wonder if everything will come together before I fall apart.

Perhaps falling apart might be the blessing that enables me to put myself together with more balanced priorities.

But haven’t I gone through this cycle multiple times?

When did I become so generous with time that I have reserved no space for myself?

Perhaps the question isn’t so much when, but why.

Many give to offer an ear to a world that no longer hears the profound whispers of loneliness… but we do… we hear, and we respond.

Many give to offer a voice to those who have lost their voice… we find ourselves more readily advocating for others than for ourselves.

Many give to offer a touch to those who yearn to be hugged… a tangible response to invisible pain.

We give. We give. We give.

And we would do it all over again… and we do.

Givers often find themselves in one-sided connections with people who call us friends but have not taken the time to know us.

In this, we can, if we allow ourselves, feel as lonely as those we help.

We leave others hopefully feeling better, while we often leave feeling depleted, drained, and doubting whether true friendship exists.

And yet, whether it does or doesn’t, we know it will not change our course of action.

We freely give… not to do so would be cheating who we were created to be.

Despite this knowing, we do not feel sorry for ourselves.

Instead, we feel sorry that we cannot do more, often questioning whether we did the right thing for another.

So, what is the answer? Better put, what is the question?

Years go by, and the story repeats itself despite the characters’ names changing.

We age, even celebrate milestones, but nothing really feels truly reliable other than the Lord and the earnest prayer that we can authentically serve others in the time we have left.

So maybe that’s the true question: How do we best serve faithfully today?

Even in pondering the answer, we think of others and obligations.

And still, we sometimes crave space that we cannot get to from this room.

We dream dreams we cannot paint on this canvas.

We hope for outcomes we cannot control in this lifetime.

Yet, we are content.

We are joyful.

We are authentically thankful.

How can this be?

The answer is in the final answer: Jesus Christ.

Jesus Christ is “the author and perfecter of our faith” (Hebrews 12:2).

Who are we to attempt to add or delete from His love story?

We are but a brush dipped in the limited colors of time and the eternal, redeeming blood of Christ.

What He paints… is up to Him.

Who finds beauty or comfort in it… is up to Him.

How much shadows versus shine… is up to Him.

Where He chooses to create… is up to Him.

What is up to us?

Obedience. Surrender.

In obedient surrender, the clamor becomes background noise; our thoughts become more aligned with Christ rather than exhausted by self and circumstance.

Perhaps the answer isn’t to pray for the noise to stop, but for us to find solace within the noise.

To respond to demands as opportunities rather than tasks.

For the hustle to be more of an exercise in installing boundaries.

Maybe the clamor is a reminder to cling to God’s Word.

The exhaustion — a call to schedule self-care as if it were a mandatory obligation.

And the rest — a prescription for renewal rather than something that feels too uncomfortable to enjoy.

When the world is spinning and time is as spent as you are, perhaps the best response is to be still in the Lord and allow Him to carry you.

After all, He is the creator of the path.

He knows the way.

He is “the way and the truth and the life” (John 14:6).

I see you, tired traveler. I see you.

Press on in faith and allow Christ to show you what to pick up and what to put down.

Life is too heavy for you not to find freedom in who God created you to be.