Memoir from the Manic Years
SEPTEMBER 7, 2024
by Kimberly Iverson
Inside I was a pinball of frantic thoughts—so many events and deadlines to keep up with, so many decisions to be made regarding my eight children, so many homelife logistics to maneuver, and ministry to help lead. And it was all intermingled with guilt…
As the words and the reality of Andrew Murray’s book, Humility washed over me, I remember the actual physical release that happened in my body. It was as if every bouncing pinball of worry and every ounce of frenetic anxious energy seemed to drain out of my body through my feet. It was the most freeing feeling, and I wanted to savor the moment. The peace-instilling truth that “I am just a creation of the Almighty God” washed over me and it almost made me want to laugh for joy. “If I’m just one of His creations, I’m ultimately not responsible for anything! If I am simply an object of Someone Else’s creative and sustaining energies, then this blessed reality can be my freedom: I am not in control and I was never intended to be!”….
When I am in the trenches of normal life, flying from one crisis to another (whether that be a diaper crisis or a sibling bickering crisis, or this-application-form-is-late crisis or someone in the ministry is about to get evicted crisis), it is easy to get sucked into a false reality where I must be the savior and sustainer of all issues within my reach. My head’s bent, my mind is focused and I’m resolved to “fix” or deal with each new issue that comes my way, the faster the better. But here, away from all the hustle, focusing on this blessed reality of nothingness of self as it is dwarfed by the competence and completeness of the Giver of Life, it feels silly to be so absorbed in my own attempts at managing life. As I listened to the words of Mr. Murray…it became clear what was the source of my anxiety: MY PRIDE.
In a day and age where we are instructed to always “believe in ourselves, give ourselves affirmations, and play the victim when life is not going well, it is ironic to have found freedom in having a dead guy tell me that all my troubles were actually rooted in ME. But this is the gift of repentance.
Repentance is actually naming the sin—the source of our stress and unrest—so that it can be confessed and surrendered. All the self-help I had attempted just left me more defeated and discouraged. What if the best help I could give myself is receiving this rebuke: that the pride of my heart was what was causing me to work so hard at all the self-help attempts? What if it was my pride that kept me trying so hard to keep it all together?….What if all those burdens I was trying to juggle could be thrown into the abyss of God’s competency? If I am just dust brought to life by the breath of God, then of course I can’t keep all those parts of my life sustained! There is only One Who sustains all things, and His Name is Jesus.