When My Heart is Overwhelmed

Here I am again; heart, mind, soul and body pulled in a thousand directions, feeling as though I can’t keep myself together for one more minute. Last night we had chicken tacos for dinner. As I took 2 forks and pulled in opposite directions, the meat shredded easily on the plate. It lay fragmented, torn and limp. I scraped it back into the crock pot, where it immediately began to absorb the flavorful juices. It was both the heat and the tearing that transformed tasteless lumps of chicken, into a tender savory meal.

The heat and the tearing are things I can relate to. When I think about how I feel at this moment, I’d describe it as being pulled apart, much like the chicken which tore so easily beneath my forks. The age old lies of my “not-enough-ness” ring in my ear. “See, you can’t do it all! There isn’t enough of you to go around! You are letting people down!” Parenting, marriage, work, laundry, ministry, creativity, reading, cooking, housekeeping, friendship, disappointment, holiday preparation, relationship mending.

My guess is that many who are reading these words are feeling splintered as well. Maybe you are dealing with the relentless demands of a newborn, and you don’t even have time to brush your teeth. Or the tug of war between work and family. Maybe it’s chemo visits, blood counts and scans. Or maybe a person walked out of your life, taking pieces of your heart with them. Maybe it’s just the relentless drive of our culture, always demanding more, more, more.

Hear my cry, O God;
Attend to my prayer.
From the end of the earth I will cry to You,
When my heart is overwhelmed;
Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.
For You have been a shelter for me,
A strong tower from the enemy.
I will abide in Your tabernacle forever;
I will trust in the shelter of Your wings.
Psalm 61:1-4

I am overwhelmed.  Lead me to my rock; my strong and sure foundation, my immovable security.  Lead me to my shelter; my safe place to hide in the swirling chaos amid storm- tossed waves.  Lead me to your tabernacle; the place of truth, where You dwell. “I will trust in the shelter of your wings.”  Oh God, that is where I most long to be.  You only can be both as solid and immovable as a granite boulder, fixed in the earth, and as soft and comforting as the wings of a bird.  If I close my eyes long enough to envision myself being enfolded under Your gentle, protective wing, I am able to take a deep breath, to sigh, as you pull me closer.

“You have been a shelter for me.”  You have both declared and proven Yourself to be faithful.  And so I make the choice as David did… “I will abide…I will trust…I will sing praise to Your name forever (Psalm 61:8).” 

In moments like this, when I feel shredded and all I have to offer are fragments of a heart, I am humbled by grace.  I know both the depths of my depravity, and the overwhelming sense that I am loved by  a God who came to my rescue.  He sees all of my struggle even more vividly than I can see it myself, yet He looks at it through eyes of mercy.

"For the word of God is living and active and sharper than any two-edged sword, and piercing as far as the division of soul and spirit, of both joints and marrow, and able to judge the thoughts and intentions of the heart.” (Heb 4:11-12)  Sharper also than my two shredding forks, I might add.  The word of God can be compared to a surgeon’s scalpel, which penetrates my deepest places.

“And there is no creature hidden from His sight, but all things are open and laid bare to the eyes of Him with whom we have to do.” (Heb 4:13)  Open and laid bare?  Those words make me squirm.  I feel too vulnerable. Exposed before God, I want to cover myself, to hide. 

What now?  What does God do as He sees all of me splayed out before Him?  What does He offer to my naked and bleeding self?  “Therefore, since we have a great high priest who has passed through the heavens, Jesus the son of God, let us hold fast our confession.  For we do not have a high priest who cannot sympathize with our weaknesses, but One who has been tempted as we are, yet without sin. Therefore, let us draw near with confidence to the throne of grace, so that we may receive mercy and find grace to help in time of need.”(Heb 4:14-16)  He invites me to approach Him boldly, because when I encounter Him I will find grace to help in my time of need. He offers mercy.  He offers Himself to me again.  For all of my torn places, He offers His wounds for my healing.  For all of my sin, He offers His righteousness.  For all of my brokenness, He offers His wholeness. 

I suppose being shredded in order to be saturated with all of the goodness that God offers me is not the worst thing.  Although the tearing is painful, it exposes more surface area of my heart to allow His grace to flow and cover and permeate.  I don’t ask for this kind of thing to happen.  I don’t seek out challenges and heartache, but they come nonetheless. As one who lives in a broken world, where overwhelm is a constant companion, I echo the psalmist’s cry, “Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.” And I invite you to join me in His presence.