"I'm Not Cut Out For This"

Whilst chatting to some dear friends during our summer in the UK I told them a story of a moment last year when I uttered the words, through desperate tears, “I’m not cut out for this!” (I actually said *a lot* more than that but I can’t write up *all* that came out of my mouth here. In response to my story my lovely friends said, “Ah there we go! We need more of those stories from you Beth…”

So this week’s post is one of those stories. (I assure you there are many!) Today's story intends to make you smile (at my idiotic fear of bugs), and to encourage you - whatever you face today, if at any level your heart screams,“I’m not cut out for this!” / “I can’t do this” / “It’s too hard” / “I’m tired” / “I want out”... - to encourage you to keep going. 

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When we moved into our precious Gambian home last November, we quickly discovered the house already had more than a few settled residents - and not the sort one usually likes to share a home with. These particular creatures have wiry brown hair, piercing black eyes and long spaghetti-like tails. Needless to say, we were keen to move them on pretty fast and, after trying a whole number of other methods, we resorted to poison, carefully placed in the gap between our ceiling and the corregated iron roof - where these unfortunate creatures called home.  

And then the wait began...

We continued to hear the loud “thud, thud, thudding” in the ceiling above (rats here are HUGE) in the weeks ahead, every evening when we, and they, returned home. But then slowly, very slowly, the “thud, thud, thudding” tapered off. Finally the Human vs. Rat war was over. The rats had moved on, so to speak... We’d won!

But here’s where things began to go downhill...

I’m sure most *sensible* people know that if you put out poison in order to dispose of a rodent, one must subsequently actually *dispose* of said rodent. 

This vital piece of common sense however slipped two minds in the naive Burgess household and, as we all know, actions (or inactions) always have consequences...

Let me tell you what happened one fateful Sunday.  

On this particular Sunday Jonny was preaching at our church. As is common on such Sundays he woke horribly early to read, pray and generally prepare his mind for the morning ahead.

As he sat at his desk on our little veranda he began to hear a strange sound. A very soft ‘Pop, pop, pop’ caused his ears to prick up and his eyes to search for the source.

Unable to discover where the sound was coming from Jonny continued to read, but then noticed something out of the corner of his eye, in the corner of his desk...

Something moving. 

Something squirming. 

Taking a closer look Jonny discovered the presence of several small squirming maggots! 

Wondering where on earth these creatures had appreared from Jonny looked up and saw some small holes in the plywood ceiling. The maggots were falling through the ceiling!

It seemed poor Mr Rat (now evidently long dead) was exacting some horrible revenge upon us. 

  

GROSS! 

Now, Jonny and I had only been married for a few months, but that was long enough for Jonny to decide it wasn’t at all necessary for him to share his desk discovery with me that morning...

So as he continued at his desk (maggots dutifully discarded), I sat down at our dining table to begin cutting out 50 Abraham finger puppets. (I was teaching the children that God makes and keeps BIG promises from Genesis 12 - such great truth!). But then, unaware of Jonny’s earlier experience, out of the corner of my own eye I saw something.

Something moving.

Something squirming.

A few more little beasts wriggling upon our floor tiles. 

Needless to say - I. FREAKED. OUT. 

I shan’t say more than that for now.

We were running late for church (as usual) so, maggots cleared (my husband is a hero), we left the house in the usual, but slightly heightened, Sunday morning frenzy.

Later that day we returned from church and, faced with the prospect of a free Sunday afternoon, I sat outside under the cool of the mango tree to read for a while. It wasn’t long befor the the sun got too hot for me so I went indoors. And then it happened. 

Out of the corner of my eye I saw something on my t-shirt. 

Something moving. 

Something squirming. 

Already on high maggot alert it wasn’t necessary to take a second glance. 

Needless to say -

I. SERIOUSLY. FREAKED. OUT. 

I can’t quite remember what I said but it was very loud, very high, and along the lines of… 

“JONNNNNNNNNY!” 

“AGHHGHGH!” 

“URGHHHHHHH!” 

“BRRRRRRRRH!” 

“CCCRRUMBULLAA!” 

“BAAAAAAAAAA!” 

And then, when some level of sense and grasp of the English language had returned to my stupid head, (remember Jonny had absolutely no idea what was going on - for all he knew his wife had suddenly been possessed by that cartoon Tasmanian devil that used to feature in Loony Toons), I screamed:

“Its a MAGGOT!” 

“Urghhhh a MAGGOT!” 

“It was ON ME!” 

“Urghhhhhhh!” 

“A MAGGOT ON ME!"

“Baahhhhhh!”

And then the declaration came: 

"AGH Jonny. I'm not cut out for this!"

Followed by LOTS of ridiculous and dramatic declarations. I trust you know the ones I mean; the kind you make when you’re freaking out and have had enough…

“I can’t live in a house with holes in the ceiling.” (Not true and actually pretty easy to rectify.) 

“I hate this house.” (Not true.) 

“I hate The Gambia.” (Also not true.) 

“Maggots keep falling on top of me.” (Again not true…) 

A dear friend and SOW student, delightedly holding a dead rat (thanks to Rufus) to my utter dismay...

So there we go. 

One moment (amongst many) where I have believed and stated, “I’m not cut out for this.”

 "AGH Jonny. I'm not cut out for this!"

N.B. The event above happened six months ago but I was prompted to write both by my dear friends (thanks bro and sis Mitchell!) and because yesterday, whilst eating a grapefruit a second maggot popped itself onto my t-shirt. Yep. Again, I freaked out in a manner equivalent to, if not more ridiculous than that mentioned above. 

It’s moments like these when I genuinely believe I’m not able to remain here in The Gambia. 

Now bear with me for a moment.  

I’m fully aware that the above scenario could have happened anywhere. Maggots live and breed in the UK.  (When I mentioned the above story to some friends my own pathetic tale was completely outdone by their own gross UK maggot story!) 

Maggots fall on people’s t-shirts outside of our house in the Gambia I’m certain.  

And that’s kind of the point.  

The moments when I say to myself, or shout aloud to my longsuffering husband, “I can’t do this!”, I make myself believe that there is something extraordinary about my circumstance that warrants escape.  

I allow myself to think things that simply aren’t true (e.g. you don’t get maggot issues in the UK).

Of course, it’s not just maggots.

There have been many other things that trigger a similar line of thought in my mind: unspoken and confusing expectations, or being in a constant underlying state of non-understanding (both of the various languages spoken here and the various cultures that so influence people), to name just two. 

In these moments I allow myself to think, “If only I were in the UK I wouldn’t be facing this horrible / confusing / scary / difficult situation...”

But when I force myself to think rationally for a moment (it happens occasionally), I realise this isn’t true at all. In fact it’s complete nonsense. The truth is I had many similar “I can’t do this” moments during my 29 years on earth in the UK before moving to The Gambia. I’m certain I uttered the words “I can’t do this” multiple times during my five happy years heading up the church’s youth and women’s work in Fowey. The same goes for my year as a church intern in Cheltenham. And I distinctly remember multiple late-night caffeine-induced “I’m not cut out for this” breakdowns whilst studying for my degree before that. 

So the “I’m not cut out for this” line of thought is really no new notion in my world.

I’m actually quite familiar with the feeling, both in the UK and overseas.

I wonder if you are too? 

Perhaps you’re a teacher at the beginning of a new term, faced with a class of new names and faces and a whole heap of targets. You’re just a few weeks in and you’re already feeling exhausted, thinking “I’m not cut out for this”.

Perhaps you’re retired and missing the buzz or routine of work and the life you used to live. You’re uncertain at what the future will hold, fearful of how your health will hold up, and not completely sure of how to fill your days. You too are exhausted, thinking “I’m not cut out for this”.

Perhaps you’re a parent. You love your kids dearly, they are the most precious thing in the world to you, but your days are filled with demands and duties, washing and cleaning and cooking, school runs and swimming clubs from dawn till dusk. You’re tired, thinking “I’m not cut out for this.”

So what do we do when we feel this way?

One option (that I frequently opt for) is to ignore it. Life happens so quickly, a new day (or new demand) comes, you face the next thing, and you forget you were feeling this way.

That is an option. The trouble is, before long the notion creeps in once again. And then again. And again. 

A better approach (I find) is to turn to the Scriptures, God’s glorious life-giving word to us.

Because, just as the cry, “I’m not cut out for this” is a familiar feeling in our world, it was also true of many dear saints in the Bible. 

Take Paul for example - the great Apostle Paul.

In 2 Corinthians 12  Paul records that he is struggling with some serious difficulties that will not go away. He famously calls his trouble, whatever it is, his ‘thorn in the flesh’. In fact it’s so troublesome to him, he’s been begging the Lord to take his hardship away, but the Lord doesn’t. Now I’m reading between the lines here but I wonder if there is a part of Paul that is crying out, ‘Lord, I’m not cut out for this’. ‘I can’t carry on with things the way they are’. ‘I could serve you better if only the situation were different.’ ‘Take this hardship away and everything will be fine.’

Sound familiar?

This is often the way I feel.

But see what the Lord says to Paul:

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

I think the he is saying:

“Yes Paul, you’re right; you’re not cut out for this at all.”

“On your own, in your own strength and resolve you cannot continue.”

“But Paul you are not alone.”

“I am with you.”

“I have promised never to leave you.”

“And just as I have saved you for a glorious eternity, not because of anything good in you but because of my grace towards you, so my grace will be 100% enough in this situation; in the midst of your frustration and weakness you will find my strength all the more present.”

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

The Lord doesn’t say he will take away Paul’s difficulty. He doesn’t say he won’t either.

He actually says very little about Paul’s circumstances. Instead, wonderfully, he takes Paul’s eyes off himself and places them firmly upon the Lord Jesus.

It’s grace that would enable Paul to endure difficulty and continue to serve Christ.

It’s grace that would give Paul joy in his heart and fire in his belly in the midst of frustrating and confusing circumstances.

It’s grace every step of the way.

And friends, it’s the same for you and me. 

When we feel in our hearts “I’m not cut out for this” or cry aloud “I’m done” we need to remember our God's glorious enabling grace.

It’s a promise.

A promise of help in times of trouble.

A promise of assistance in moments of weakness. 

A promise of strength to help us go on.

“...in the midst of your frustration and weakness you will find my strength all the more present”

And in my experience this grace comes in all kinds of ways...

Encouraging words from a friend, a perfectly timed phone call, a thoughtful email, an unexpected free moment in the day to stop and enjoy something beautiful that God has made...

Only this morning I came home having taken a school assembly in circumstances that felt pretty impossible and completely confusing, feeling totally spent, thinking, “I’m not cut out for this.”

And as I sat down to write this post I received two messages from dear friends asking how I was and how they could pray!

Grace, right there in the form of dear friends, reminding me that they care, reminding me I have a God who cares...

And of course whether friends message us or not, all of us at every moment day or night have available to us a glorious means of Gods grace in his precious word the Bible, and in the privilege of prayer. 

So if you’re feeling spent today, remember this glorious promise:

“My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”

Remember the grace that is yours in Jesus Christ. 

Remember his strength that will be present in your weakness. 

Remember the help that our precious Saviour promises to give, in every circumstance, until he returns.

And enjoy the grace that he will surely give.

Oh what blessedness accompanies devotion,

When under all the trials that weary me,

The cares that corrode me,

The fears that disturb me

The infirmities that I press me,

I can come to thee in my need

And feel peace beyond understanding!

The grace that restores is necessary to preserve, lead, guard, supply, help me.

Every new duty calls for more grace than I now possess,

But not more than is found in thee.

('Grace Active', The Valley of Vision)