• By Linga Theboss

"I'm Over It"


What to do when you are over it, When you have nothing left to give, When you can’t care anymore, When you can’t find the strength to carry on?

Lean on him. Press in.

In full transparency, I’ve been “over it” lately. Since the start of this school year, and maybe even before. I transferred to GCU after spending an entire summer intensely praying and seeking and researching. Trust me, when I heard God speak it was with clear, resounding clarity, confirming that coming to GCU was my next step. In my mind I had it all figured out, I’d go to GCU because God told me to go, I’d major in Advertising and Graphic Design, I’d graduate, and then I’d live happily ever after.

But then life happened, as it does. And now I’m wrestling with the realization that I hate the degree I’ve chosen, and I barely like the school I’m attending. And now come the questions in my head “Did I hear wrong?”, “Did I choose wrong?” because how could something God called me to do be so unpleasant?

I’m so far in that I could graduate in a year and a half, so changing majors doesn’t really make sense. And then simultaneously I've been sensing more and more of a calling to serve God in ministry, with no real clarity about what pursuing that will look like. I’ve dealt with these questions before, when I was at Emory University.

To reflect, one of the reasons I didn't like Emory was because of the lack of creative options that were available as a major. Two months into the semester I realized I didn’t like my major and that nothing I was doing was stirring my passion.

I cried myself to sleep countless times because I was so swamped with essays and calculus that I didn’t have any time to do things I loved, like painting, and drawing, and songwriting, and sewing.

I’ve never really talked about my year at Emory but it was honestly one of the hardest seasons I’ve ever experienced:

To be surrounded by people, and yet feel totally alone. To be one of the few Christians on campus and struggle to find sound community to be a part of. To feel unnecessary and unseen. To have no church to call home. And then to see the church you once called home flourishing without you(not that I wanted it to fail).

I am lucky to have met a few amazing people in Atlanta who did the best they could to make space for me and invite me to their church and include me in whatever ways they could. But I couldn't help but feel like I was more of a burden than an asset because my attendance and participation in ministry was so dependent on them.

If I was ever in the midst, this was the season.

A time where I felt completely left behind and lost.

ALL I HAD WAS JESUS.

My dream was put on hold. My participation in church ministry was put on hold.

My friends were thousands of miles away and busy with their own lives.

I could only go to Jesus.

And so I chose to press in.

I was determined to find him in the waiting. I was determined to hear his voice. Not because it was easy. Not because it made sense. I was more confused in this season than any other time. It was because God was the only one I could ask.

I used to wake up early- way before my class, as silently as possible to avoid waking up my roommate who wasn’t a christian (I wanted to respect her space and I knew that a lack of understanding on her part could make for an awkward interaction if she woke up and saw me praying fervently to what would seem like the sky).

I used to lock myself in the bathroom and cry out to God on the cold tile floor. I would ask God to ‘do something’, ANYTHING.

I remember several times I came to the dorm so overwhelmed by life and school that I broke down on the floor and all I could pray was “Lord where are you?” in between my sobs of frustration.

I remember weekly taking an Uber to church and sometimes going in and out barely being noticed by the people around me.

I remember that as I was going to church in a city I didn't know, with people I didn't know, I would often end up sitting all by myself.

And I remember choosing in the middle of my struggle and my emotions, to worship anyway. Because I knew then and know now that regardless of what is going in our lives, God is always worthy and God is always for us.

In this season that was harder than anything I’d ever faced before, I saw God’s faithfulness like never before. When everything seemed like it had failed, when it seemed like everything and everyone that I loved had left, He stayed. I could never adequately explain how held I felt through every sob, and every scream. He was so near me. He never left. He was the anchor for my soul. I can see it now, but honestly it was hard to tell then.

I can’t pretend to know what you are going through. Maybe in comparison to your current season, my struggle seems like lightwork.

But here’s what I can tell you: He is with you. Not just with you, but for you. Not just for you, but transforming you.

During my year at Emory the advice my friends gave me was to “Rest in Him”, but if I’m honest, I couldn’t apply that advice to my life. I was so busy with work, and essays, and assignments, and research, and math, and clubs, that I couldn’t rest.

All I could do was lean.

It was a lean that said “I can’t do this”. It was a lean that said “I’m over it”. It was a lean heavy with burdens, and questions, and frustrations. But it was only when I was leaning on him, relying, and DEPENDING on Him, that I found the freedom to rest. To personally know the peace that surpasses all understanding, and trust that the provision would come at the right time, according to his will.

This is not a post to gloat. This isn’t “look at me, I did it” clickbait. This is simply a small summary of God’s faithfulness in my life in a time where it felt like everything had crumbled around me. My hope is that you will find renewed courage to war for your joy and become once again anchored to Him, trusting in His goodness.

Stay steadfast. He IS in the waiting- I’ve seen it first hand.

In the words of Vivian Piper,

“Lean on Jesus, and just when you feel like you can’t lean any more, lean a little harder”.


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