The blessing of letting go.
To be honest, I wasn’t paying much attention to the devotional video. The title “God is asking you to surrender and trust Him” had caught my attention when I scrolled through my YouTube feed, laying in bed pretending that an extra hour spent with my special pillow and a cat at my feet would make up for the 3rd night of little sleep. But after I clicked, I kinda fuzzed out. They say intention is half the battle, but I stared at a chemistry text long enough in college to know that half isn’t enough to actually learn anything.
It was too bright to sleep anymore. The bare trees blocked exactly zero sound from the commuting cars of responsible, energetic job-type people up way too early (IMHO). Too cold to get out of bed (blame me for setting the thermostat too low to save on heat bills… in exchange for spending more money on itchy woolen socks and having my bed warmer on for hours). Too, well, “December-ish” for much motivation to do much of anything really.
Except think.
I could always think.
Wow could I think. (And talk.) And keep thinking.
I am certain I could indefinitely contemplate how best to patch another hole I accidentally knocked in the wall of my husband’s blue office, why my cat looks like he’s gonna fart right before he sneezes (we call him “Sneezles” from November to January), or how lady bugs can climb straight up a slippery stainless steel fridge without falling down when their legs are ridiculously small (again IMHO) and they carry a tank on their back. But this morning I wasn’t curiously exploring such important questions, the answers to which are without doubt necessary for world peace.
I was stewing. Over-stewing. Going ‘round and ‘round the same pot of worry until everything started to blend together and I couldn’t tell what was what in my brain anymore, or what day it was (though I still most assuredly knew it was a “December-ish” feeling day.) Stewing. Churning. You know- like when your dad helps you in the kitchen but you don’t really want him to help (for the sake of actually presenting edible sustenance to the table in an hour) so you tell him “Here- stir this,” and think quietly with a pinch of salt and guilt “even though you shouldn’t really over-stir stew”.
“God can do way more through your surrender than you can do through your control,”
the speaker on the video said.
It was after about 8 minutes of other no-doubt profound statements, scripture readings, and probably a few prayers intermixed- none of which had I heard as I ruminated with the finesse of a true master- that this simple revelation penetrated my yet-unbroken gaze at the satin-finished Plum Passion (aka light green) walls of my bedroom.
“Hey, EB! Wait up!” Emily called from a few yards behind me. Energizer Bunny- “EB” for short- was my nickname the year I was on a crew team at OSU (a thousand years ago…) because I never gave up. I just kept going and going and going…
Yep, my thinking was back. The podcast fuzzed out to the background again as I took back up my contemplating- this time over my relentless determination.
“… even if to your detriment,” Dr Rolfs had said after admiring my dedication and grit to rehab this past year from a broken femur, and in response to the unending myriad of overuse injuries I had accumulated along the way.
My perseverance has served me well; don’t get me wrong:
I can now kayak for 3 hours straight without stopping.
I biked my first quarter century ride post-leg-mangle last week.
I fully recovered from over 2 decades of eating disorders and didn’t turn back a single time.
I ….. and…..and…..
“Keep on keeping on” may as well be tattooed on my forehead. I don’t need it plastered on my arm, or anywhere else where I can see it myself as a reminder. It’s pretty much part of my DNA at this point. Call it self-constructed epigenetics maybe?
I wrote about this undeniable, may-as-well-be-neon-green unmissable characteristic of mine in several previous posts- some about exercise addiction, some about balance, some about the nervous system, and others still about the importance of endurance and perseverance.
But there is a dark side to every capability. OCD, perfectionism, control, anxiety, over-achievement, attachment insecurities, selfish-ambition. All of these can stem from determination on steroids.
Not always are these extremes sought of a sinful nature by any means. Certainly perseverance, dedication, and grit coupled with greed or revenge can fuel an unending pursuit of power, prestige, and wealth- often to the oblivion of and damage to those around us. But more often than not, fear will be found deep beneath the facade when the flowers fall off, the fruit is long eaten, the tree is cut down, and the roots are dug up.
It’s obviously well-known that I don’t like letting go. I can argue until everyone else in the room has literally fallen asleep.
As I lay there my cat shifted at my feet. I think he was dreaming. (He can sleep even after the sun rises which I think is really irritating.) An image came to mind of a small girl holding tightly to a Teddy bear, unwilling to let it go to the outstretched hand before her. In front of her stood a man reaching down with kindness in his face, hand extended in comfort and reassurance. Behind his back in his hidden hand he held another Teddy bear- much much larger and softer. But through tears and with fear the little girl held her bear tightly with her ironclad little grip of determination. She would never know of the surprise waiting for her if only she let go.
I am that little girl.
Behind His back, held safely in the hand of My Heavenly Father is my bigger, bolder, more beautiful life.
I lay there in my bed on that December-ish morning. The responsible job-types were all at work by now. The road was quiet. My cat was still asleep at my feet. It was still too cold to get up. I felt myself griping tightly to the worries and thoughts of my small, painful life again, gazing up at the Plum Passion walls.
The voice on the YouTube podcast paused. The silence actually broke the stillness. Then he repeated the words it seemed I was meant to hear as I clutched my fears and worries with that fierce determination I have, and wrestled to stir them a bit more in my mind.
“God can do way more through your surrender than you can do through your control.”
I stopped stirring. Two tears of resignation fell- one on each side. I opened my hand. I let it go.
Peace set in.
Maybe you are that little child too.
