It’s not you, it’s me. Pathetically, I’ve used this line twice during the relationally awkward high school and college years (which ironically have accounted for 33% of my life span to date). Today, however, I was flabbergasted when I found myself saying it to Jesus. It explains the lack of writing over the last month and why I’m wincing as I type each word now.
When I told the two human men that our more-than-friend relationship needed to cease, I either turned around and walked quickly away or hung up the phone so that the conversation couldn’t continue. Truly, I really thought I was serving them better at the time. One should never have to convince another to be more-than-friends. To me, the mutual affection and broad scope of common interests blended with something that just can’t be explained confirms true affection. As such, it was easier to take the blame and move forward bearing only the mark of being a girl who used a cliché to end something that wouldn’t work.
With Jesus, it isn’t that easy. Over the last few weeks, I’ve felt something that also can’t be explained. It’s not sadness or complacency. I’ve asked Jesus several times to name it and then today, on the ferry ride home from Victoria, I noted that I was disappointed in myself over the list of good things that I’ve neglected to do and all the wrong things that I’ve done with fervor. So I resorted to the cop-out phrase. As I floated through the San Juan Islands, I closed my eyes, felt the sun on my face and once again said “It’s not You, it’s me.” What I wanted from this was the freedom to turn around once again and quickly walk off feeling the release that I had experienced twice before. The release didn’t come. Instead a still, small voice said, “Yes, it is you. I can help though if you’ll let Me.”
I can’t get into the details yet because I don’t know if there are details to get into. Instead I’m just trying to stop dissecting and analyzing because God has spoken plainly through His Word that He cares for me. As Matthew (chapter 11) recorded:
25 At that time Jesus declared, “I thank you, Father, Lord of heaven and earth, that you have hidden these things from the wise and understanding and revealed them to little children; … Come to me, all who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. 29Take my yoke upon you, and learn from me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. 30For) my yoke is easy, and my burden is light.”
It’s at these moments where the seed of faith has to be planted, for grace through Jesus is given to those who believe. While my flesh is conflicted and fearful of what can happen, I truly believe that Jesus finds joy in giving rest to my soul. It makes no sense to feel guilty about handing over the “untidy me” to Jesus. He has already carried the cross… who am I to tell Him that He can’t or shouldn’t take on more?