Sorting through my stones.

This was quite a week for me, as some of you know. I kind of–well, I did–have a nervous break down.  Not really, I guess but I basically got to a breaking point, where I realized I was doing too much and physically felt like I crumbled into a heap. It wasn’t pretty. 🙂  But as with most breaking points, it usually means that great growth is on the horizon, hatching out of an egg and finding new life. It’s exciting, it just doesn’t always feel that good at the time.

I knew the issue was brewing when I read through Exodus 18 in my quiet time, and was reminded again of Jethro’s (Moses’ father-in-law) advice to Moses when he came and visited.  Moses was sitting, from morning until evening, every single day, listening to the disputes of people and giving direction, wisdom–leading them.  Jethro says, “What you are doing is not good. You and the people with you will certainly wear yourselves out, for the thing is too heavy for you.  You are not able to do it alone.”

What you are doing is not good.

Hmm.  I didn’t quite understand at that point exactly what that meant, but later on in the week it became clearer. Not only is it not good for yourself, because you will get worn out, but it is not good for the people either, because the leadership, wisdom, and advice that they will receive from you will be less than stellar–it will be tired, irritated, annoyed advice and leadership rather than rested, well-thought-through advice and leadership.  Not only that, but perhaps (total speculation here), Moses’ father-in-law looked down with the eyes of a grandpa and a father and looked at his daughter Zipporah and at his little grandbabies and got a little protective, realizing that these Israelites were getting 90% of Moses’ time, rather than his family. Again, it says that nowhere in the Bible, but it’s interesting that it’s Moses’ wife’s father that steps in and says, “Enough is enough!  You’re doing too much. Get out of there and spend some time with your babies and wife!”

Perhaps it takes the perspective of a wise, aged father, with the heart of a grandpa, to point these things out to us.  Perhaps. (I’m winking at you, Dad.)

So while last week was rough, it was really good.  I did some evaluating and made some boundaries, and while I still feel like at moments I’m drowning, when I look up and keep my eyes fixed in Jesus, He keeps the wind and the waves at bay.

Then this weekend we continued studying through the book of Nehemiah. Joel taught chapter 3, the chapter full of names, about how Nehemiah assembled the team to rebuild the wall of Jerusalem, and how many many people it took to pick up those stones and assemble the various portions.   He made this hilarious point about how we each have our own stones to pick up, carry, and stack on the wall, and we each need to shoulder our own stones.  He said sometimes people come up to him with an idea for ministry (hinting that he should do it), and he gets this funny smile and wags his finger playfully and says, “Are you trying to give me your stones?  It sure feels like you’re trying to give me your stones… I think those are your stones!”

So true!  Some of us have this tendency, as we’re picking up our own stones, to look around and see all the heaps of stones around us and feel so overwhelmed that we just start picking up everybody else’s stones too!  Heck, there are stones to pick up I might as well pick them up!  And so I had this vision of myself, with Dutch hanging on my back, Heidi in a front pack crying, holding my husband’s sack lunch in one hand, my Bible teaching notes in the other, my laptop tucked between my knees, a laundry basket balanced on my head, picking up toys off the ground with my toes, and then trying to figure out how in the world I was going to pick up all these stinkin’ stones that are laying around!  Joel’s message was a refreshing tap on the shoulder: “Hey, guess what? Those aren’t your stones.”

So as with any adjustment period, it takes a while to figure out boundaries, make adjustments, figure out what’s God and what’s selfish.  I’m sorting through my stones and asking God exactly which ones He’d like me to stack on the wall, and which ones He wants me to leave on the ground, because they’re someone else’s stones to stack.

And at this moment one of my stones is sticking his feet in my face and giggling, trying to get my attention. (No, it’s not Jeff).  Naptime is over…it’s time to stack some stones.