NEEDLESS BURDENS

"Yes, I know the chairs are uncomfortable. You still have to sit in them. Try not to focus on it!"

"I didn't get picked!"

"Well, you've got to be reverent to get picked."

"She wasn't being reverent!"

"How old are you?"

"27."

"Are you married?"

Said with a laugh, "Nope."

These were the conversations I had with the Primary children in church today. And although I love them dearly, it did not exactly create the most conducive atmosphere to receive personal revelation.

And yet, here we are.

Sitting amongst the children, my arm across the backs of their chairs (perhaps as a hint to remind them to sit in the chair), and with their questions whispered in my ear, I watched a beautiful lesson unfold before me.

Two, wonderful ladies stood at the front of our little hoard, bearing their testimonies of Christ through videos, object lessons, and words that the children could understand.

And apparently, words that a twenty-seven-year-old needed to understand, too.

While discussing the Savior's infinite sacrifice in both Gethsemane and on the cross, one teacher asked the children why He would do such a thing.

"So we didn't have to suffer!" A soccer-playing cutie from the back replied.

"Can you imagine, carrying the weight of our sins for our entire lives?" The teacher concurred with the statement mentioned above.

I can't remember what I was doing. Talking a child back into a chair, catching a bracelet as it rolled across the floor, or being tested on my scripture knowledge, but those words caught my attention. They made me sit up. They made me think. They made me ache.

Because that is exactly what I have been doing. Needlessly, I have been carrying the burden of my mistakes, past and present.

I've always struggled with perfectionism, felt the need to do the right to the best of my ability. And when I don't? I am by far my own worst critic, as most of us often are.

However, I've noticed that when my life gets more stressful, when the clouds are gathering and the winds are whipping, my need for perfection kicks into overdrive. I don't just want to do things right, I have to do things right. There can be no mistakes.

Impossible? Yes. Irrational? Yes. Still something I try to pursue? Apparently.

I think it's a control thing. When everything spins wildly out of control, when I feel I have no firm grip on my life, I attempt to rein in the one thing I can force into line. Me.

Insert, the hardest year of my life.

I know I tend to lean towards exaggeration, but there is no hyperbole in that one. My Charlotte Lucas year has been, without a doubt, the most difficult one yet. I am drowning beneath its depths. I feel I have lost my hold on it all.

On my career. (Can it be called a career yet?)

On my love life. (I've gone from desperately not wanting one, to feeling a sudden rush of urgency about it. I blame the latest Young Adult Devotional. Sometimes the Lord's counsel is really hard. And humbling.)

On my faith.

Everything is in tatters, and I hate myself for it. I haaaaattttteeeee myself for it. Everything feels like a mistake, a mess up, and a wrongly placed step. Somewhere, somehow, I did something wrong, and no matter how much I retrace my footsteps, I can't seem to get back.

I'm lost. Rudderless. Hopeless. Afraid.

And, I am anything but perfect.

I am angry at God. Sad, true, and again, needless. I cannot see His hand in any of this mess. And each and every time I call out to Him, plead with Him, beg for relief, He seems to send the waters down in even stronger torrents.

I'm failing in every aspect of my life, including my faith.

"Can you imagine, carrying the weight of our sins for our entire lives?"

Dwelling on all the wrong turns and sins, I can't feel His love. And though, I do think this is in part due to a season of heavenly silence in my life, I think it is also due in part to me.

I'm not letting Him love me, am I?

I'm trying to do it all without Him, trying to prove I don't need Him, if He's going to leave me here to suffer in the anguish of it all.

I'm turning my back on Him, and I'm getting further and further away from the light of His love.

Because, what if it isn't all mistakes? And, so what if it is? Either way, He is the answer. Either way, He is the only way that can make me whole, that can make it right, that can extend His hand and pull me up out of the sea.

He suffered, so I wouldn't have to feel this way. And here I am, still feeling this way.

If we're being honest, I don't know how not to feel this way. Don't understand why my prayers feel unanswered, my actions feel pointless, and why I can't pull my testimony back from where it's teetering on the edge.

What I do know, is that He is perfect. That He hears me. That He will make it all right. That He is a reason to hope. That I can give it to Him. That He will happily take it, no matter how many times I mess up.

I know that, even if I don't feel it right now.

So, I will keep trying. Keep praying. Keep repenting. Keep loving myself as He loves me. Keep putting one foot in front of the other. Until, the sun parts, the heavens are heard, and I can't feel the burden I've been carrying anymore.