There is a letting go that is birthed in disillusionment and doubt “I can’t hold on to this anymore, it will never happen, I give up”. Then there is a letting go born by hope; faith, not that it will be returned to me, or that something better is to come, but that He who I have passed it over to is better.
I was once asked by a friend what it would mean for me to pour my whole life into a drawstring bag, tie it up and hand it over to God. Everything; could I let it all go, every gift he has given, every dream every hope; could I trust it with him. She wasn’t talking about salvation in that sense, more could you “give your life, your all”. Everything, even the good gifts, the people and parts of me God had been growing. Everything.
I used to think maybe Job found it easy when everything was taken from him, it all came back to him anyway – and better. That’s the rhetoric we tell ourselves. Job didn’t know that. In his story, there was no knowledge of the return until it came. Just faith, that God was in it. Job was human, he grieved the loss, he felt it, he knew the dark. Yet he held onto one thing through it all.
During the summer, this question arose again, all be it in a different form. This time I didn’t run away from the answering, nor did I feel the guilt that some parts of me would be harder to let go than others. We walked, Jesus and I. We walked and are still walking it through because in kindness He is giving me time and we are working through bit by bit what I am letting go of.
“Walk with me & work with me. Watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything on you which is heavy or unfitting. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely & lightly”
“don’t try and figure this own on your own, listen to me in everything”
“Honour me with everything…. my delight for you is behind this”
One of the biggest things we are working on letting go, is my need for answers. I’ve realised that a lot of my prayers were just looking for answers to my questions and were serving just to make me feel like I am in control. If I know what God has for the next year, I can plan/take control, not feel vulnerable. All my adult life, he has asked me to adventure in the unknown with him. I’ve just become too jaded to remember how that felt, he’s smoothing me out again to want to adventure.
At the beginning of the summer I auditioned for a play. I was not expecting to sing on my own, but it became apparent that I was going to have to. The song, one I am not confident on, one I don’t know the ‘official’ tune too well. I entered the unknown. I was scared, vulnerable, and my legs became like jelly. Yet I walked
Right now, I don’t have answers and it feels vulnerable and my legs are shaking. However I know enough of the words and the tune to move forward into the unknown. More that that, I know He is there, I know He is good and I know all this is because He delights in me. It’s emotional, I’m grieving loss, I’m lamenting what might not ever be, but through it all His hand will guide me. I am learning what it is, to ask for daily bread, what I need for today, and know that sometimes it will be something that tells me about the future, sometimes it may even be something which reveals or heals my past; but mostly it will be for the gift that is today, and it will be enough and it is given in love .