I’ve been listening to a biography of Dallas Willard, the Christian teacher most influential in my life with God (besides those I’ve known personally). One theme that comes up again and again is how willing Dallas was to take time for people, even if it interrupted the progress of his own projects. Take this example from a student of his who came to him during a crisis:
I stopped by Dallas’s office and asked, “Can we talk?” Dallas dropped what he was doing and we walked across the street to the rose garden. I will never forget it. We walked, and he listened to me, and I poured my heart out. . . . We were in that garden for six hours! Who would do that for a student?
Not all of us have jobs that allow for a six-hour interruption at a moment’s notice. But all of us have a character that we bring with us to our jobs. All of us relate to our work responsibilities and to the people around us in particular ways according to that character. What is noticeable about Dallas is not that he had a job with such flexibility, but that he had a character with such readiness to serve, to attend to another person. When I read this story, it makes me want to have that kind of character. How could I become a person who takes other people so seriously, who loves them so well?
[Thanks for reading. This post continues our series The Work of Healing. Check out our other posts on faith and work and emotional health for more resources on living an integrated Christian life. Subscribe to get the next post in the series in your inbox.]
Carrying the Work Lightly
No doubt there are many things that went into making Dallas the kind of person who could pivot from his work to an impromptu six-hour heart-to-heart so easily. But one of these things must have been how he carried his work responsibilities.
All of us carry our work responsibilities with us. It’s like we have a backpack stuffed with our to-dos, pressing down on our shoulders as we move through the day. But some people, like Dallas, somehow seem to carry their backpack lightly. They still have the backpack, but it doesn’t weigh them down in the same way.
They are able to set it aside and come back to it.
They can give their undivided attention to the people in front of them.
They are not anxiously distracted by what they have to do next.
They are fully present.
I’d like to be that kind of person, wouldn’t you?
Bricks in the Backpack
Sometimes it’s helpful to me to visualize my own backpack. What’s really in there?
The specific work tasks that I’m counted on to do, yes.
But also some other things. There are bricks in the backpack making the straps cut into my shoulders that really aren’t the work itself. I think of the weight I’m hauling as “work,” but really it’s more than that. It’s my emotional relationship with work.
One brick: financial worries. It doesn’t help me work better to anxiously ruminate on money problems, but I find myself doing it anyway. Financial anxiety somehow keeps me stuck to my work. If I’m worried, I keep my nose to the grindstone. I can’t let go of the backpack; that would be inviting financial catastrophe.
Another couple of bricks: The desire for control. I don’t just want to do the work, I want to use the work to achieve my desires in life, controlling my way to happiness. I can’t let go of the backpack; that would be letting go of the plan that makes me feel safe.
A whole pile of bricks: My conviction that my worth comes from my work, as I wrote about in my last post. I can’t let go of the backpack; that would be letting go of what makes me matter.
Brick Factories: Shame and Fear
Where do these bricks come from?
Some of them, like my financial worries and desire for control, are produced by fear. Fear tells me: Something bad will happen to you.
Other bricks, like my work-as-worth fallacy, come from shame. Shame tells me: There is something wrong with you.
Fear and shame go together. We see how closely they are connected in the Genesis account of Adam and Eve’s sin.
Adam tells God: “I heard the sound of you in the garden, and I was afraid, because I was naked, and I hid myself” (Genesis 3:10 NRSVue).
I was afraid, because I was naked. Something bad will happen to me because there is something wrong with me.
Fear and shame are brick factories. They generate feelings and thoughts that weigh us down. They reinforce habits of being preoccupied with work, unable to disengage and be present to the people around us. They make the straps of our backpack tighter and tighter.
Like Adam, I want to hide. I don’t want people to know who I really am. It is easier to project an image of an impressive, productive Chris than to be honest with people about the real Chris. So I work, anxiously and distractedly.
Unzipping the Backpack
So, what does it take to carry the work lightly?
It’s not complicated. But it is painful.
You have to set the backpack down, unzip it, and let Jesus take out the bricks.
That’s easier said than done. Ironically, the same bricks that keep us so weighed down can keep us from getting the help we need, from changing how the whole backpack feels. I’m stuck to my work, so I can’t set it aside for long enough to honestly ask, “Why am I so stuck to my work?”
But sometimes, something forces us to take stock of our life at work.
For me, it’s depression. When I just don’t have the energy to work, when my brain and my body force me to slow down, I realize I need to pay attention. I need to ask why I’m doing what I’m doing and feeling what I’m feeling. I need to take a look at what’s really in my backpack.
When we do finally stop long enough to take a look at our bricks, they can be scary. It’s easier to just zip the backpack back up and keep hauling.
That’s why we need Jesus to help us. Jesus is the Safe Presence we need to unearth our fear and shame without being overwhelmed.
On our journey with Jesus, that’s what emotional healing is: Opening our backpack up to him, and letting him take hold of the fear and the shame that we’ve carried for so long.
Faith and Healing
It takes faith to step into an experience of healing in the presence of Jesus. As the writer of the letter to the Hebrews says: “whoever would approach God must believe that he exists and that he rewards those who seek him” (11:6 NIV).
When we believe that God is real, and that he is good, we can come to believe that it’s worth it to open up our backpack to him. Our confidence that there’s a reward for us in the presence of Jesus will eventually overcome our fear of being hurt. Faith leads us to Jesus, who can lay his hands on us and heal us.
One context for this kind of healing encounter is the ministry of healing prayer in the church. Another is encountering the presence of Jesus in Scripture. We may find that journaling about the fear and shame we feel allows us to find the words we need for our part of the conversation with God. Or, speaking with a good counselor or trusted friend can do the same.
Whatever the avenue, we need to bring our bricks into the presence of Jesus.
Faith and Obedience
Faith also naturally leads us to do what Jesus says to us after a healing encounter. In the Gospel accounts, a miraculous healing or declaration of forgiveness was often followed by a specific command.
To the Gerasene man delivered from a legion of demons, Jesus said, “Return to your home, and declare how much God has done for you” (Luke 8:39 NRSVue).
To the ten healed lepers, he said, “Go and show yourselves to the priests” (Luke 17:14 NIV).
To the woman caught in adultery who he did not condemn, Jesus said, “Go now and leave your life of sin” (John 8:11 NIV).
Jesus will likely give each of us a command like this when he takes a brick in his hands.
For my financial worries, he may command an act of generosity.
For my desire for control, the discipline of submitting to someone else.
For my false conviction that works make me matter, the gift of Sabbath rest.
When we respond to the command of Jesus with obedience, our faith takes a leap forward. We see the brick crumble under his grace. We enter into a new way of life, a new habit of being, even if just a little bit more than before.
For My Backpack is Easy
Walking the path of healing is not glamorous.
We come to a point where we realize we’re carrying bricks.
We make the time to set down our backpack, unzip it, and let Jesus do his work with our bricks.
We listen for his command, and then obey it.
The bricks crumble.
Then we pick up the backpack again and keep walking.
Jesus said, “Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light” (Matthew 11:29-30 NIV).
In Jesus’ vision of our life with him, he’s the one that does the heavy lifting. As we learn from him, from his gentle, humble heart, we find rest for our souls.
Over time, we’ll find that it’s not so hard to set the backpack down for six hours, or six days. Instead of being slavishly attached to our work, we’ll be free to do whatever love requires.
We’ll find we’re more able to give our undivided attention to the people in front of us.
We won’t be so anxiously distracted by what we have to do next.
We’ll be more fully present.
With Jesus, we’ll carry our work lightly.
Reflect and Practice
Take a moment to consider your own heart.
- What does your backpack of work feel like? How heavy is it on your shoulders?
- Are there bricks in your backpack that aren’t really work, but rather your emotional relationship with work?
- Do you connect with the idea of fear and shame as bricks in your backpack? What are some specific examples from your life?
- What would it look like for you to set down your backpack and unzip it in the presence of Jesus some time this month?
Photo by Adam Hornyak on Pexels.
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