At times I feel like I am slipping away from myself, as if my own life is a fistful of sand. My thoughts race a hundred miles an hour. I feel pulled in so many different directions, spread so thin, and the world around me is spinning like a chaotic vortex. So many things clamor for my attention. Tests, papers, presentations, bills to be paid, grad school applications looming over my head, unread text messages demanding a response. What is most important? Where do I begin?
Centering prayer makes a fool of me, highlighting my inability to be calm. If the noise is loud, the silence is deafening. For four minutes I battle anxious thoughts on top of anxious thoughts. As soon as I think I am still, I realize that somewhere deep inside I am mentally chastising myself for my inability to be still. I never knew there could be so many layers of subconscious thought. How can I possibly invite Jesus into a spirit that is so divided?
The answer is both profoundly simple, and profoundly difficult.
I cannot invite Jesus into a divided spirit. There is no room for Him there.
Rather, I must enter His Spirit. I must stop what I am doing and find in myself a unified spirit to meet with Jesus. I must focus my will to be caught up in His purpose, and there find my own. And so I must reclaim the scattered pieces of my heart and bring them to Him to be made whole.
School, you have no hold on my heart. You must give it back.
Friends, I cannot love you well by giving you only a piece of my heart. I must have it whole.
Money, you are not worthy of my stress. I reclaim my heart from you.
“Come to me,” He invites. “Leave it behind. Being with Me is so much simpler.”
He smiles knowingly and takes my hand as He continues. “You see, the Kingdom isn’t about all these things. It’s physically impossible to pursue more than one thing. Your spirit is supposed to keep you grounded, but when your very core is being pulled apart…” He shakes His head. “No wonder you can’t breathe. You can’t be fully present if you’re focused on more than one Love. Come with Me, and you’ll find everything you’re looking for without searching.”
I grasp His hand a little tighter as we leave chaos and walk towards clarity. It’s time to leave the rest behind and seek first the Kingdom.
And if you’re uncomfortable with the idea of me attributing words to Jesus, don’t worry, it’s all found in Matthew 11:28-29 and 5:19-34.
At this point, I would strongly encourage you to STOP READING THIS POST, unless you have the time to work through the rest of it as a devotional, as it requires your spiritual participation. It will be meaningless if skimmed, so come back to it when you do have time.
So pause to read those Scriptures right now and underline the words or phrases that stand out to you. Read it again slowly, out loud, focusing on those underlined words. What is Jesus telling you? Pray through the text. Then continue to read below.
Soren Kierkegaard writes, “The person who wills one thing that is not the Good, he does not truly will one thing. It is a delusion, an illusion, a deception…A person who wills [a multitude of things] is not only double-minded but is at odds with himself….In truth to will one thing, then, can only mean to will the Good, because every other object is not a unity.”
And of loving others he writes, “The one who truly loves…does not use a part of his love, and then again another part. To change his love into small coins is not to use it rightly. No, he loves with all his love. It is away as a whole, and yet he keeps it intact as a whole, in his heart…. When the lover gives away his whole love, he keeps it entire — in the purity of the heart.”
Therefore, to give away our heart to any cause in any capacity, it must be whole within us. This is why we cannot invite Jesus into a divided spirit. We must come to Him, sick of our own internal division, wanting to be one within ourselves, and one with Him. And if we desire to be made whole, He must have everything we are. Seek Christ alone, and you will find simplicity.
On a retreat with my church’s college group this past weekend, our college minister led us through a guided meditation by Anthony DeMello, which I will share with you below. I encourage you to take the time to read it slowly, dwell on it, pray through it, savor the images it calls to mind, and examine your own emotional response to the exercise.
“God says, ‘Give me your heart.’
And then, in answer to my puzzlement, I hear Him say, ‘Your heart is where your treasure is.’
My treasures — here they are:
Persons. Places. Occupations. Things.
Experiences of the past.
The future’s hopes and dreams.
I pick each treasure up, say something to it, and place it in the presence of the Lord.
How shall I give these treasures to Him?
In the measure that my heart is in past treasures I am fossilized and dead, for life is only in the present.
So to each of these past treasures, those golden yesterdays, I say goodbye.
To each I speak, explaining that, grateful though I am that it came into my life, it must move out — or my heart will never learn to live in the present.
My heart is in the future too. Its anxious fears of what will be tomorrow leave little energy to fully live what is today. I list these fears and say to each, ‘Let the will of God be done,’ observing what effect this has on me, knowing in my heart that God can only will my good.
My heart is in my dreams, ideals, hopes, which make me live in future fiction. To each of these I say, ‘Let the will of God be done, let Him dispose of you as He sees fit.’
Having reclaimed the portion of my heart that was captured by the future and the past, I now survey my present treasures.
To each beloved person I say with tenderness, ‘You are so precious to me, but you are not my life. I have a life to live, a destiny to meet, that is separate from you.’
I say to places…things…I am attached to, ‘Precious you are, but you are not my life. My life and destiny are separate from you.’
I say this to the things that seem to constitute my very being:
My health, my ideologies, my good name, reputation, and I say it even to my life, which must succumb some day to death,
‘You are desirable and precious, but you are not my life. My life and my destiny are separate from you.’
And at last I stand alone before the Lord.
To Him I give my heart.
I say, ‘You, Lord, are my life. You are my destiny.'”
–Anthony DeMello, Wellsprings