Yesterday, Today, + Tomorrow

I know I'm being pushed and tested in this season. I'm feeling the heavy weight of things pile on my shoulders, and I can't help but witness my fleshly weaknesses taking their toll. The reliance for Christ is dire more than ever in this period of unsustainable weight and a tightrope of things crossing my mind and my heart. It's difficult enough dying to myself everyday, but when you add the world it becomes a whole new level of perseverance; a level that is hard to cross, and only attainable with Jesus.

The list goes on: essay, mandatory gym hours, work today and tomorrow and the next day, this failed interview, another research paper, clean, be presentable, money, and solitude. Where is the solitude? When does the motion stop and the stillness begin? There's a fine line between going and never ceasing. As of now, it's hazy to tell which line I've crossed. Have I been going and maintaining? Or I have I forgot to rest, even for a second?

It's tough when the only time you can be alone is for the fifteen minutes you can do yoga at night and read scriptures, only to have to wake up in six hours to go to work, and then school, and then fulfill all those duties that need to be checked off the list. It begins to feel like a cycle; a never ending cycle of doing that just seems to repeat. The same emotions, the same attitudes, the same clothes, and people, and things. There has to be a time when it all stops, and I ask myself, "What sets today apart from yesterday?" It can't merely just be the date or the weather. No. It needs to be a drive. The change from today and yesterday needs to be a daily determination to be driven by Christ. When you're at your wits ends, you have the courage and righteousness to say, "Today is different because Christ was at the center, and everyday with Christ is a new day. Thus, tomorrow will, yet again, be a new day." Without that constant reminder, we'll all just get lost in the shuffle of the world, in the footsteps of the living dead trying to fulfill this sick paradox of worldly perfection and success. If we don't remember why we do it, how we do it differently, and who we're doing it for, we'll just be lost without purpose, without wisdom, without hope.

Lately, my thoughts may seem as if they're slowly forming into this recurring them of mundanity and exhaustion, but if I don't keep reminding myself of how utterly terrible it would be without my God at the center, I don't think I'd make it through to see the end. The things of this world are so fickle in comparison to the beauty, amazement, and wander of the LORD of all creation.