mrcrowder.com

There is a deep, frustrating lie of all lies that often grabs me, shakes me, and refuses to let me go.

It whispers in my ears,
keeps me awake at night,
and holds my head under water.

It tells me that my identity—who I am, what I’m worth—is inextricably tied to my success.

It causes me to sleepwalk through life.

Discombobulated, 
present but not really there,
always stressed over how I’m measuring up.

It strangles joy from my being and leaves me a shadow of a man.

I grope through life, my mind infinitely wandering into a space of lifeless worry and dispassionate hopelessness.

I do not want to be this distracted; yet, my failures & successes swallow my thoughts.

Am I good? Am I bad? 

Do I have it?

I hate it. I hate a life that basically equates existence to productivity. 

This should and must be submitted to the Lordship of the King who promises a way of life where I’m defined by my willingness to abide in His victory over the powers that assault me.