Every muscle in my body ached, my head was splitting. My foot was healing from multiple cuts, from my own fins, and from coral and sea urchin barbs. Pain was a fundamental part of my existence. I breathed shallowly so as not to agitate my dislocated rib and send spidering liquid fire through my spine. In my mind I kept saying, hey, I should probably rest, take a day. I am a mess. Yet, I was driving to the North Shore after a long work week, my surfboard wrapped in its cozy bag next to me between the seats. I was going to hit the waves anyway.

               I would like to be able to tell you that this only happened once, but for six weeks straight, despite growing pain, difficulty, and physical and mental health issues, I surfed almost every single day straight through the pain. I always went alone too. I knew that the surfing was contributing to the physical pain, and I wouldn’t heal if I didn’t stop, but it was more than a hobby – it was an addiction. More than addiction, it was also self-medication for my hatred of my work and personal relationship troubles after a breakup with a truly amazing young woman who I just couldn’t maintain connection with over distance and time and the stress of my job.

               And then, seemingly overnight, surfing was a dull thing to me. I would still go from time to time, but it held no joy. It was something to do, but not a driving force for good in my life. It was a blasé past time. It was something to do, just another distraction so I wouldn’t have to face the things in my life I didn’t want to face. It became a pseudo-courageous cover for cowardice.

               What happened? Perhaps you can guess, but when I started using surfing as a medication for my problems instead of growing and loving it, it became an object to be used rather than a skill to pursue. It also became the source of more problems, because I asked of it more and more than it was ever designed for. Surfing is not a panacea for physical and mental health, no matter how far it really has taken me in both those areas.

               What am I saying about the Christian life then? Is it unable to give us all that we need? Am I denigrating the faith with this post? By no means, but we must consider the manner in which we approach the Christian life. I spoke previously of the power of paddling – of the ordinary means of grace – but we can fall off the horse on the opposite side if we unthinkingly pursue the ordinary means of grace and paddle ourselves into oblivion thinking that those things are powerful in themselves. How many of us have heard of pastors, leaders, teachers, and even laymen and women burning out in service to the church? How do we burn out when the Lord’s fuel source of grace is inexhaustible? Well, likely because we have foolishly tried to paddle ourselves into the standing position without relying on the power provided by God. We have forgotten that it is only by God’s grace and power that we do anything at all in this Christian life.  

               You can’t paddle fast enough with human effort to surf on flat water. This is obvious, but sometimes that is what we try to do with the things of God, and in so doing, we wound ourselves rather than grow through the ordinary means of grace. I have been guilty of thinking that if I just get good enough at the things of God, I will be self-reliant. I wouldn’t express it in that way if you were to ask me, but that’s what my frantic Christian activity can often be – a desire to rely only on my own strength and no one and nothing else. I was riding waves on days when the waves weren’t designed to be ridden, with the wrong board, forcing it rather than letting the waves provide the power. In short, I was being foolish, reckless, and proud. One of the hardest truths to swallow, at least for prideful madmen like myself, is that we never grow beyond needing the Lord’s power to do literally everything.

               So, what do we do in those times when we have been trying to use the ordinary graces for our own selfish ends rather than their purpose, for our own pride instead of His Glory? When we have burned out and the thrill of the Christian life feels lost, what then? We go back to the source, and renew ourselves in the Lord. We cast our cares upon Him, rest in Him, and wait upon Him. There are times in the Christian life when you need to pause, stop fighting, stop struggling, and just wait upon the Lord. It is easy to be distracted with things, even good things – and that ties to the previous post about rediscovering your hands – but we need to take time to be undistracted and focused entirely on the Lord. Read the Psalms (or other areas of Scripture that encourage your mind to ponder God Himself rather than yourself), not only to study but more to praise Him. Perhaps sing the Psalms. Pray, not in the travailing for specific outcomes, rather in thankfulness for all that He has granted already, and for the gift of His Son. Finally, share your burdens with trusted fellow believers. A former teacher once told me that, “pain shared is pain divided, and joy shared is joy multiplied.”

               This last one is often the most difficult for us, especially as men. We have been trained and shaped our whole lives not to burden others, to bear our problems on our own, to suck it up. In fear of appearing weak, we have become truly weak under our burdens that we pridefully refuse to share with others. Maybe that’s just me, but I suspect it might be you as well. In the inverse, if we are to create a culture of mutual support in the Church, then if another man comes to you burdened, you need to help with that burden not whip him for having it. I have been guilty of this as well, and we must repent of our hardness of heart towards our brothers. It takes discernment, trust, and the power of God almighty acting in our lives, to come together properly in this regard, but we need to try. The great works which God has for His Church are not carried singly, but together, as one man – as the whole body of Christ.