There’s a powerhouse mantra going around the internet which reads without apology, “SLAY IT!” In other words, muster up all your know-how, skills, and confidence and kill the dragon: whether a dream, a task, or the fear holding you back. Take it down.
When I first came upon it, immediately I felt empowered and intoxicated. “Yeah!” I wanted to fist pump the air. I felt my hand reaching for my pen so I could slash my notebook into shreds.
I experienced the rush for what it was: the rebel heart.
She’s the one who loves to power-through on buckets of coffee and tell her kids to go away so she can pour her pent-up soul onto the page like today is her last day. She’s going to make up for all she lost. SHE’S going to take it back. SHE’S not going to let anything or anyone get in her way.
She’s high on desire and passion. She balks at her own need and self-care.
You’re either with her or you’re of little use.
Be advised to get out of her way, or she will slit your throat. This is my natural mojo: she’s strong, but she’s not so gracious. Last week slaying it left me with nothing to show because I couldn’t slay it anymore. I was weary, needy, and totally spent. I was done.
I found myself in Starbucks watching this sermon called “Try Harder” by Trevor Hudson. Slaying it was becoming a means of trying harder, and I was spent. God’s Spirit showed up in the leather chair adjacent to me. I surrendered and wrote:
Take your pride,
Your stuffy heady pretending and slash it.
Kill it, burn it,
Lay it down.
Surrender the choke, your yoke—
Your self-inflicted suffering.
Do you feel the lightness when you are real?
When you stop the push, the rush, the go, go, go.
‘Go get ’em. Slay it girl.
Sometimes that works.
Sometimes it’s needed.
More often than not, I AM’s got the tab,
Paid for your coffee. Your mess.
Given you a gift. Gone before you.
(Do you hear? I AM’s got this one.)
Bringing peace, walking into the mess before you ever pull up in your swag.
Have you forgotten I’m the God who is EVERYTHING?
Here you are trying to be the boldest YOU possible.
‘Go get ’em tiger, you’re great!!!’
‘Slay it, girl.’
How’s that working for you?
How’s that over-burdened late night do-it-til-you-die going?
What are you missing?
What are you wishing for?
Win while you’re ahead.
Have you forgotten—I came and conquered and undid all of this for you.
Vulnerability is not your undoing. Pride is.
Stop pretending you’ve got this.
Stop waving the check in my face and receive what I’ve bought for you
Because I love you.
I love you, and I bought it all. All the crazy make-shifting you do. Traded out for love.
Forget striving for madness.
Get real with me and we’ll make it a date. Get real. You don’t have to hustle.
Yes, the world is a kingdom of cripples, crazies, and self-centered idolizers of shame and sugared up psychotic experiences.
The rush of new.
The thrill of more.
So many of your sisters and brothers crying out,
Am I enough?
Am I too much?
Go on and just try to fix it.
Slay it, girl.
Puff yourself up on your ability to pay the check. Take it all on your crumbling shoulders and your strained neck. Go to therapy and work out all the kinks. All the while, I’ve paid it. I’ve taken care. I’ve made your burden light.
Come, rest your head on my shoulder. Let’s begin again.