Let Go and Live!

Surrender produces growth.

I wish I could remember that.

I wish I could convince my heart, mind, and soul of the constant truth of that statement.

I wish I could just…let go.

But it’s not that easy. Especially when everything in me screams…

what about me?

what about my interests?
what about my reputation?
what about my pain?
what about my wants, hopes, and dreams?
what about my feelings?
what about my needs?
what about my right to ______ (justice, revenge, satisfaction, happiness, etc…)?

And it’s even less easy when I fall into believing the lies of my culture:

My future is in my hands.
I control my fate. It’s all up to me.
I’m entitled!
The key to my success is my power and control.
If I love myself first, then I can love others.
I need to look out for number one.

What’s sadder still is this: self-interest and self-protection ultimately lead to self-slavery, not freedom.

Look at how much work goes into a self-focused lifestyle (it’s exhausting). A self-focused person thinks…

• I have to be in charge. If I let others control things, they might not do things my way or put my interests first.
• I have to micromanage loved ones, ministry partners, friends, and co-workers to make sure they do things the way I think they should be done.
• I can never let down my guard, I might miss something, or worse yet, someone else might see that I’m imperfect.
• If something goes wrong, it must be my fault (since I’m in charge), so I have to work harder to make things right OR if something goes wrong, it must be someone else’s fault, so I’d better micromanage them even more.

The world lies to us: there is no rest or freedom in self-focus. There’s no peace in self-protection. There’s no growth in self-centered manipulation and control. Oh, how deluded we are!

Now think about surrender.

When I surrender, that is, when I “yield to the power, control, authority, or possession of another” – Merriam-Webster (Unabridged), someone else handles the responsibility. Someone else endures the pressure, someone else carries the weight of concern.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately on several fronts:

• my nearly grown children’s futures
• financial concerns
• conflicts at church
• physical health
• our Labs’ health (in particularly, Elsie, who may be pregnant)
• work stressors
• publishing (with my freelance writing)
• speaking venues

I could, if I let myself, believe what the world tells me and live as if the outcomes of all the above were up to me.

And I’d be frantic, exhausted, stressed out, and overwhelmed.

OR

I could choose to “let go”: to surrender myself, my wants, my needs, my hopes, my dreams, my name, my reputation, my worries, my concerns, my feelings, my joys, and my pains to the One who is really in charge (and always has been, despite my delusions).

Then, what happens to my children as their adult lives unfold, though I’ve been the best parent I know how to be, isn’t my responsibility (my fault or my claim to fame). What happens with my finances, though I endeavor to be faithful and wise in my stewardship, ultimately rests in God’s capable, faithful, providing hands. My health concerns and church conflicts and work stress and publishing outcomes–though I’m called to follow scriptural guidelines in how I handle these things–ultimately depend on God’s grace and mercy, not on my ability to perform for, manipulate, or influence others

You see, I’m called only to be faithful. The outcomes aren’t up to me (they never were).

The outcomes belong to God.

And when I embrace this truth and surrender to His sovereignty and ways, I’m free to…

• build up, and not tear down
• befriend, not fix
• encourage, not envy
• discuss, not debate
• motivate, not manipulate
• inspire, not impair
• invite, not indict
• sharpen, not shred
• hurt, but still hope

I’m free to love with abandon, to serve sacrificially, to risk being a fool, and to rest in His great and glorious goodness.

I’m free to let go and become the woman God calls me to be.

Hmmm…I guess surrender really does produce growth.

Maybe it’s time to let go and live.

I’m willing. Are you?

‘Til next time,
Joan