oh hey friends.
it’s been a few weeks since i’ve sent an email out. I’ve been writing more studies in the Good Fruit Bible Study, working on a new email series, and I’m chipping away at my book manuscript. It’s been kind of like … an emotional pressure cooker. On top of that, we’ve been pretty sick. Colds, stomach bugs. Some days have been pretty brutal. I *think* we’re coming to the end of it now. Please Lord.
Anyway, I’ve been kind of MIA on instagram. I had been thinking about taking a sabbatical for a little while, but I guess I never made an official exit. I just kind of, stopped posting. I checked in a few times and probably will a few more times, but I haven’t had much to offer so I haven’t offered much.
It’s made me think of a story my dad tells about an uncle he never met. I won’t tell the whole story here because Dad does such a better job, but this uncle died as a teenager, shortly after he gave his life to Jesus. He was only 17 and as he was dying, his biggest worry was about what he would have to offer Jesus when he met him. One of the last things he said before he died was, “I have no sheaves to bring him.”
Having “sheaves” to bring Jesus is an old Protestant idea. There was a song they used to sing in church services based on Psalm 126:6 (“Though one goes along weeping, carrying the bag of seed, he will surely come back with shouts of joy, carrying his sheaves.”). “Bringing in the Sheaves” is a song about coming to the end of your life and presenting the harvest of all the seeds you planted during your time on earth.
Though the loss sustained our spirit often grieves;
When our weeping's over, He will bid us welcome,
We shall come rejoicing, bringing in the sheaves.
The first time I heard the story of my uncle I was in awe. This young man made a decision that changed the trajectory of our entire family. He was the first of my dad’s family to follow Jesus and because of his decision, his siblings and parents came to Jesus and so did their children and their children’s children. He didn’t know that he would be the first in an enormous legacy of faith. On this side of the story, it’s wild to think that in his last days he believed he’d done nothing of worth for Jesus.
The second time I heard the story, it made me sad. He was so young, so excited to live his life for Jesus and then he in an instant, he was dying and instead of grieving for a life he couldn’t live, he grieved a life he couldn’t give to Jesus. I saw his story through a jaded lens of religious trauma and I thought, “Isn’t that just like the church? To make an excited convert feel like he’s worth nothing to Jesus without something to offer?”
The last time I heard the story, I saw things a little differently. It wasn’t religious obligation or fear that caused him to be so distraught about what little he’d done for Jesus. It was love.
He hadn’t had enough time from his conversion to his death to pick up any kind of theology at all, much less a complicated doctrine of works and salvation. All he knew was that Jesus loved him and he was desperate to do something to return that love to Jesus.
These past few months, I’ve been feeling kind of like I’m in a spiritual wasteland. I’m doing all this writing and not sharing it with anyone. And because it’s just sitting on my computer not being read by anyone, and because it leaves me so drained and empty of anything of depth left to offer anyone around me, I feel kind of like my great uncle. Like I have no sheaves.
Who am I and what am I doing if I’m not engaging with the people around me? If I have nothing to say because I drained myself saying it in a manuscript? If I have nothing to teach because I’m so tired from parenting and marriage-ing? What sheaves do I have to bring? Is it ok if the only sheave I have is me?
The short answer to that question is an emphatic yes.
We can beat ourselves bloody with religious obligation and theological shackles until we bury our entire lives under a pile of guilt and shame. Where’s the joy in that? Where’s the honor? Why is it so hard to believe that Jesus wants our hearts, not our hands?
I’m trying to remind my heart to move in a response to love, not as a response to what I think I owe the Kingdom, or Jesus, or anyone else.
I want to cheerfully give my gifts, my thoughts, my time, and my energy. And when I can’t do that, I know I need to realign my heart to the Father’s.
The world of Christian culture isn’t much different than anything else when it comes to platform, consumption, and work. We give when we have nothing to give. We show up fractured. We push and push in the name of consistency and commitment when really we are burning ourselves out. Mentally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. We lay our own lives on the altar of being a “good and faithful servant.” We offer ourselves as a sacrifice, terrified we’ll show up to Jesus empty handed.
But this life is different.
The work is different.
The “call” is different.
It’s actually really ok if you don’t have all your sheaves in a row. It’s ok if your priorities shift and change as your life does. It’s ok if the work you believe God has called you to do changes. It’s ok if you’re tired. It’s ok if you’re sad. It’s ok if you’re scared. It’s ok if you don’t know what your next move is.
It’s ok because you’re safe with Jesus.
He hasn’t asked for your hands, just your heart.
Sheaves or no sheaves.
(( What’s a sheave, anyway? ))
He’s present and happy to be with you through the good, the bad, and the boring.
Breathe it in and then breath it out. Slow down. Rest. Return to the joy and love of your salvation and stop rushing to produce something for him.
Hearts beat better when they’re full.
Anyway. Those are the things I’m thinking about in my time pulled back from social media.
Here’s the scene I’m looking at right now.
And here’s me. Alive and well.
and here’s a baby.
Thanks so much for being here. I’m really glad you are.
I needed this so much today. Because of things going on in my extended family on top of parenting, being a grad student, and working I've had nothing left to give. Nothing to give my community, my friends, and others. All my energy is going toward my family and taking care of myself. It's hard because I don't like living this way. I receive so much joy in working with and giving to others. this was the reminder I needed that in this season it's okay to focus inward, to focus on family, and rest in the love of Jesus. There will be other times in my life where I have more to give. It's ok to be where I am now. Thank you.
This are truly the words I needed to hear today. Thank you!