The Shrine I Made

Hi, I'm Rachel, and I'm an idol worshipper.

I would have never called myself that back then.

I didn't worship celebrities or money or fame or sports or (heaven forbid) bow down to real wooden idols.

During my growing-up years, particularly in my teens, my dad was very busy and my mom suffered from chronic fatigue and other health issues.  There was always so much to be done, it seemed.

Enter a strong first-born sense of duty and responsibility, add a theology that told me I needed to perform to gain God's favor, and suddenly there was this elaborate shrine I made to a most insidious idol.

Other girls might have chased after beauty or popularity, but neither of those ensnared my heart.

Productivity was my biggest idol.

I loved to get things done.  I lived my life by to-do lists.  I made goals and pushed myself to achieve them.  My identity was directly tied to what I could accomplish.  If I was being productive, then I was a good person and people (and God) were happy with me.  If I wasn't productive - or as productive as I wanted to be - then I was a failure, a let-down, a disappointment.

My eyes were always on clock.  Hurry, get this finished before the hour is up.

The evenings were the worst.  Oh, no.  I didn't finish everything on my list today.  Now I have to add it to tomorrow's list.  Try harder, Rachel.  You've got to get it together.  Do more.  Get. it. done.

All the endless striving...

Underneath it felt hollow.  When would it ever be enough?

Grace came on the scene - truth that said God loves me because He is love, not because I am lovable, or productive, or responsible, or anything else.

Grace said, Rest in Me.  Find your identity in Me.  Let Me carry the load; just walk in step with Me.  My yoke is easy and My burden is light.

I didn't know this easy yoke; I only knew the exhaustion of self-effort.

But this invitation to leave the shrine, to come and bring my weary, never-productive-enough self?  I dared to believe He just might mean it.

So I came and He did and He gave the sweetest rest imaginable.

I wish that was the end of idol worship, that I never chose to go back to the shrine of my performance, that I learned the lesson once and for all...

Even now I catch myself racing the clock far too often, catch myself shriveling up over an unfinished to-do list at the end of the day.

But the invitation is still there - always there.

Come.  Rest.  Abide.