My name is Pam, and I’m a workaholic. I’ve been clean for about one year now. Can I share my story?
Last year, I had an amazing experience. God asked me to do nothing. To stop and get rest. And I actually did it.
For those of you who know me, I never had rested. My husband was always shocked that I would roll out of bed and start working and close my eyes as I was working. When God asked me to stop this behavior, I wanted to say no, but when you’ve surrendered to God, you know the feeling of Him pressing in to you. It’s a time where He tells you to do something and you can’t say no. So, for nine months, I rested.
My food during this time was something my pastor had told me. He said, “Pam, I’ve learned that when God asks me to rest, and I don’t, there’s always something big that’s coming. And I’m not ready for it when it comes.” Sometimes, out of sheer longing for the excitement, I would rest. Sometimes it was because I was overwhelmed at what might be ahead. Sometimes it was purely an ugly, righteous spirit that wanted to be ready, But regardless, it got me to rest.
I pulled back for 9 months. A lifetime in the life of a workaholic. And I learned something precious. Even more so, I gained a strength I’ve never known. Truly, functioning in a spirit of rest is far more powerful. You end up having a lot more authority over situations and events. And far more clarity on what’s from the Kingdom of God and what’s from the Kingdom of darkness.
And so now, I have resumed my life since November, but I’ve done so with strict boundaries on my time and what I take on. I don’t try to control, and when I do find that I am, I quickly back down. It’s not worth it. I very embarrassingly run to Jesus and ask Him to hide me so I don’t do something stupid. He always is very gracious and tells me not to be embarrassed or self-condemning, but that yes, I’m allowed to seek balance. There’s always an invitation waiting to slip away and get back to the Holy Spirit with a sound mind, back to pure relationship with Jesus, back under the authority of the Father.