Nothing is Broken, Something is Building: Embracing Holy Discomfort

I find myself in a phase of holy discomfort. I feel like I’ve run into a wall in my life, where I can’t seem to get any further. I love my life and yet there is this feeling of unrest. Like there is something I’m supposed to be doing but I’ve forgotten to write it down. I check all the things off the list and yet there isn’t a feeling of accomplishment.

Maybe you have felt this way too. As though you are performing your life but not really living it.

I kept thinking that something must be wrong to feel this way. Sometimes discomfort is a sign that something is wrong and needs to be addressed, but other times it’s that something is being birthed.

I’ve given birth to three children. Each of my labors was different. My third was my only natural labor. Frankly, it was wretched. Some women look back on their natural labor as some kind of grand accomplishment. They felt empowered and strong. I felt like a survivor. The product was beautiful, the process was a bloody, terrifying mess.

But I remember the feeling of labor starting with each one. It was mildly uncomfortable. Like I could have pulled a muscle or eaten something that didn’t agree with me. I had to stop and question, what am I feeling?

Some of us are in spiritual and existential labor. We feel the a mild discomfort, like something isn’t quite right and we don’t know what to do with it. Labor is easy to recognize when it comes in full force but in the beginning it’s easy to misunderstand it.

To a certain extent, this is natural. As Christians we ought to feel the pull between where the world is and where it ought to be. We feel an ache and a discomfort because this world was never meant to be our home. But other times it is a signal to us that something is changing.

I want to make a clarification here. Something is changing doesn’t necessarily mean something needs to be changed. I’m the first person to give myself a new task or goal. I want to find the magic routine or resource that will bring me through my discontent into a more efficient and functional life where I feel I’m headed in the right direction. But when we feel holy discontent, it isn’t a call to change something but a call to be changed. There isn’t more work to be done but work to be done in us.

Years ago, when I was going through a time of high anxiety, I was trying to find a way through it. I had too much to do, I didn’t have time to be brought low by this inconvenient aliment that was paralyzing me and keeping me from all I had to accomplish. My therapist told me, when you feel those inconvenient and unpleasant emotions, just hang out with them.

This was not what I wanted to hear. I received similar advice years later from a different counselor. She put it this way, try to practice just being not so much doing.

It’s permissible if not necessary to embrace those feelings of angst. But it doesn’t stop there. We don’t wallow, weighted down by those emotions, we lean into Jesus. As I hang out with that discontentment, I open myself up and let God do the work. If I need to be changed, I need to let him do it, instead of constantly trying to make it happen on my own.

One of the hardest things about labor was that I didn’t know it’s length. Times of emotional and spiritual transition are the same. We cannot pace ourselves or grit our teeth to get through it because we don’t know how long it will last. But we can moment by moment, redirect those feelings to Jesus.

I can choose to be content with my holy discontent as I wait to see where God is guiding me. This doesn’t mean that I give up all of the regular tasks that make my life work, but it does mean I have to carve out space to let God speak to me. As I allow myself to hang out with these uncomfortable feelings, I also choose to hang out with the one who made me, knows me and has a plan for me beyond my comprehension.

This may happen through the discipline of silence. Finding time to be quiet, and still, without any expectations of accomplishment. Do you know how hard it is to find silence in the modern world? Whether I get up early or I stay up late, there are noises or tasks distracting me. But I need to make this space so I can relearn how to hear.

It may happen through prayer. I’ve begun praying,a lot. Before you begin to think me some kind of paragon of faith, let me assure you, those prayers may be frequent but they are short. Lately it’s been as simple as closing my eyes, taking a deep breath and praying “God help me. Show me the way.”
Whether I’m reading my Bible, driving in my car, sitting in as cafe trying to write, dealing with a misbehaving child, or doing yet another pesky load of laundry, the prayer is the same. When I don’t know what I’m feeling, simplicity seems to be the best course. Of course I sometimes pray other things too, but I continually fall back on the humility and gratitude.

It may happen through worship. I have certain songs that I cling to, words that feel as though the author climbed into my head and write my thoughts. These songs are one of my ways to connect with God. When I don’t know how or what to pray, or when I need to be reminded of the truth or speak the truth of who God is over my life, I can lift up those words to God. I can speak to my soul,and engage with God’s presence. This may happen for you as you garden,as you sew, as you run, whatever it is you do where you experience God’s presence and offer up your adoration of him.

I’m approaching midlife, at least chronologically, and yet I feel as though I’m just beginning to live. Ironic I know because my life is very full, and yet, I can’t shake the feeling that there is something more I’m meant to be. Yes, I believe there is also more I am called to do, but I’m realizing those are separate things. They often work in concert with each other but they are not the same.

I am continually being changed and transformed, hopefully to being more like Jesus. Throughout this process I have work to do. The work will change, as I will. But sometimes the change and the work can’t occur simultaneously. Human pregnancy demands a great deal of physical energy and strain, a new life is being grown. Some of us are pregnant, but we don’t know it yet. We haven’t yet realized that we need to throttle back on our own agendas and make room for new life to grow. It doesn’t matter how this looks on the outside. Some pregnant women run marathons, other women can barely get out of bed. The important thing is that we be in tune with our souls during this time, and listening for the gentle promptings of the Holy Spirit: when to be still, when to move, when to rest.

The labor pains have started, now I need to wait and see what’s being born. At times I dread the process, but experience has taught me the results will be beautiful.