Grace is one of the foundational principles of Christianity. It’s why Jesus died for us because it absolves us of sin when we repent to God. Grace is also everlasting and all encompassing. There is no sin too big for God to handle. He knows we are imperfect and will inevitably fall into sin and shortcomings. But He still loves us all the more.
Despite knowing all of this—I still don’t embrace grace.
Work has been my source of self-esteem. It’s something I can control when everything else in life isn’t controllable. I hang my hat on my belief very few people will outwork me.
I buck the critique of being a master of none versus a jack-of-all-trades because I’m able to execute my passion projects at a high level, regardless of how tired and overwhelmed I am.
This only exacerbates my bipolar disorder because I sacrifice myself for the sake of being consistent. I don’t want my peers to view me as sporadic as a creative and even more so as a man. I want to be reliable, trustworthy, and perfect. On the other side of my phone or laptop screen, bleary-eyed and exhausted, the excitement I feel after hitting “Post” on a content piece quickly dissipates and I’m already on to the next thing.
I feel I’m never doing enough. I’m looking at everyone else’s plate while mine gets cold.
I keep my output going for a few weeks, or a few months if I’m lucky. But the work I do—reaching out to interviewees, coordinating team members’ schedules, recording and engineering podcasts, and writing editorials—isn’t sustainable.
I feel I’m never doing enough. I’m looking at everyone else’s plate while mine gets cold.
After the productivity high comes a disastrous crash. I don’t shower for several days, I barely eat, I close myself off from others, and my mind is riddled with depreciating self-talk. It gets so dark at times I consider taking my life because the same cycle of high productivity to zilch makes me feel helpless.
But eventually, I bounce back and start the process of getting back to me. Back to the gym, back to my passion projects, back to connecting with loved ones, and back to my faith.
But the thought crosses my mind—why try when I’ll be halted by yet another depressive episode?
There are times I push through, but there are also times I’m forced into perfectionist paralysis. If I can’t give 100%, I don’t do anything at all—which eventually and ironically spirals me into a depressive episode. Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.
For three years, I was a member of a church that required me to prioritize it over everything else. But I should have been prioritizing God.
There was a constant demand to share my faith (approaching strangers and sharing about my faith journey and inviting them out to a Bible study or to church), hopping into lengthy Bible studies during the week, and attending all church events (it was so much more than Sunday service). All while being a full-time college student and later, a working professional.
In my mind, all of that work wasn’t really for God—it was for the church. There was no grace and no rest.
People were wearing themselves down to the bone to be viewed as martyrs. They were killing themselves for the gospel. But this isn’t what God intended.
I was working so hard for God and striving to grow closer to Him. But it felt like my life was falling apart.
There were nights I cried myself to sleep because I was physically and mentally exhausted. I grew distant from my loved ones and friends. And I wasn’t happy.
It’s still difficult to turn to God when I’ve fallen short of His glory, especially when I’ve committed the same sins over and over again because I feel my grace is running out. No matter what sermon or words of affirmations I receive from others, I’m always waiting for the other shoe to drop.
My prayer times with God cast Jesus out of the picture and instead are times for me to figure out: how can I will myself to perfection today?
To this day, I have to remind myself I’m worthy of His love regardless of where I am in life or how my prayer life looks. There’s nothing I can do to win Him over. As long as I desire to be close and obedient to Him to the best of my ability, that’s enough for Him. He’s not just fire and brimstone.
I’m still learning I am more than what I do. And I’m still peeling back my layers of toxic masculinity, fear, control, and perfectionism to find my authentic self.
I have to free myself from letting work be my god. I have to free myself from bottling up my emotions for the sake of getting by. I have to free myself from fearing what others think of me when I’m not creating enough or consistently. I have to free myself from needing to control all aspects of my life. And I have to free myself from the depreciating lies I tell myself when I can’t achieve the impossible standard of perfection.
I’m giving myself the grace to break my chains one link at a time.
BABL 