Ordinary doesn’t mean meaningless | A life worth living

Life has felt very flat and meaningless to me for a long time, even whilst walking with Jesus. As usual, summer came and left in the space of a week. A heatwave followed by the temperature dropping by half, and a downpour of rain. Your average week in May here in the UK.

Arsenal won the Premier League for the first time in over 20 years. I’m not in any way, shape or form, the least bit interested in football but North London was vibrant. Full of colour, one could argue the town was quite literally painted red. Crowds have been somewhat of a complicated place for me, holding what once felt like both my best and, at times, my worst experiences. Something you might not know, is that I used to love to party and not just socially, I mean shoulder to shoulder in pits of sweat, artificial smoke and bass that vibrated through your chest. It was a place of joy and freedom for me, at least for a moment. Then I met Jesus, and I went from someone who I believed to be carefree and competent, to realising that I was hiding - running in fact, behind hedonism, dissociation and pain. When I could no longer cope with the crutches made available to me by the world, I was faced with the reality of my trauma, hypervigilance and insecurity.

And so, when it comes to crowds, I know what it’s like to be swept up in the fear and freedom of it all.

A few years have passed since my last dance, many of which have been spent in the secret place. Being shoulder to shoulder with those celebrating their victory as I walked back to the train station from church felt oddly moving. A place that once felt like home, then hell, now felt exciting. A place that definitely is not for me, but one where I no longer felt unsafe. I felt alive. It was nice to see people happy and celebrating. One can’t help but wonder what life would be like if we could be united like that in the name of Christ.

That week was beautiful to me for a slightly different reason than Arsenal’s victory.
But sadly, like the weather, the connection I found myself in had blossomed alarmingly quickly, only to come to an end.
I began to mourn the awkward in-between —
not quite a lover, now a distant friend.
Blue faded into grey, a blanket over the sky. She shed her tears for the following week — as did I,
making what already felt like a dream feel further from reality.
And I thought to myself how poetic it seemed that my sadness echoed through pathetic fallacy.

Anyway, what I’ve come to share with you today is how God is using emotional regulation to birth deep satisfaction in Him and the belief that even in the ordinary, life is good. Through this mini chapter of grief, separation and renewal, God is healing, strengthening and maturing my emotional world. It’s unfortunate that it had to be discovered this way, but sometimes, perhaps through pain it’s the only way. Upon my brief but meaningful connection coming to an end, I realised I never felt that my life had any value outside proximity to other people. In other words, I was emotional dependent. I subconsciously made others responsible for the colour and meaning in my life. And so naturally when they left, life felt flat, and I felt invisible. I’ve also struggled with feeling everything or nothing at all. I never really learned how to navigate life as an emotional being. For so long emotions were truth, an anchor, a weight, a tsunami, a whirlwind, a pit, a dictator, prophecy. Something I couldn’t hold or withstand. After a while I began to fear them, pushed them away and eventually stopped feeling at all. Choosing to intellectualise and analyse instead of accept, rationalise instead of express.

But Jesus has been walking with me through them, gently. Teaching me that emotions are an experience, momentary ones at that, but not the entire experience. The same is true of people, relationships, and friends. I’m learning that I can survive the most threatening emotions like panic, grief and shame. Even ones we’re taught not to name. I simply lay my hand on my chest, and say “it makes sense, Nevida, why you’re feeling that way.”

Now that I’m coming back online again, and a season of isolation is coming to a close, I’m learning that a good life, one of value, virtue and truth, doesn’t need to feel pleasant all the time. It doesn’t need to consist of one ecstatic event after the other. On some days, a life worth living can consist of monotonous, mundane obligations of maintenance. It doesn’t need to be validated by the presence of others. In May 2024, I was on a 14 day fast eating only after 6pm. Naturally, at some points I felt weak and couldn’t do anything but rest. I said to God “what do you expect me to do in times like this?” I felt so unproductive. And then gently He whispered, “I don’t expect you to fill every moment.” I don’t have to succumb to dissatisfaction, fear or heaviness because my days aren’t constantly filled with beauty, pleasure or people. My life, your life, has value, even in stillness. Even when nothing extraordinary is happening. I think the enemy, especially in today’s world, has done a tremendous job at making ordinary life look, feel, and seem - miserable. That something is missing. That every moment has to be invigorating in order for it to matter. That true joy is in the stimulation of the flesh and simplicity is void of meaning.

But God first gave Adam Himself. His breath. His Presence. I encourage you now, in this moment to pay attention to your breath. Place a hand on your stomach and meditate on the fact that your ability to breathe is not only borrowed but hopefully pain-free. To breathe is easy. What a gift. Genesis 2:7 tells us that when breath entered, “man became a living soul.” Living, with no job, no travel plans, no wife, children, accomplishments or education. In the garden, it was just God and Adam. And he had a life worth living. As he was. Because he was made in the image of God, and so are you. It was later that God then, gave Adam the responsibility of working the garden. Then animals came along, and eventually his wife. But God was pleased with Adam from the beginning. Adam, despite having it all to himself, didn’t need to take over the world and make every second count, all he needed to do was steward what was in front of him. Each day may have looked very similar at the start, but if he’d just kept at it (instead of getting distracted with what He didn’t have) it would have been beautiful.

And so I pray that from this moment forward, you would begin to tend your own garden, knowing that you are valuable as you are and that you would choose the life. Because it you have one worth living. Not only because with Jesus it is worth it but because we are also commanded to.

“This day I call the heavens and the earth as witnesses against you that I have set before you life and death, blessings and curses. Now choose life, so that your children may live and that you may love the Lord your God, listen to His voice and hold fast to Him.’

Deuteronomy 30:19-20