Letting Go

     

     Have you ever felt like the weight of the world was literally on your shoulders?

     Like the responsibility for every bill to be paid on time, every child to smile and be contented and learned, every meal to be cooked, every question to be answered correctly and every second of your spouse's happiness was hanging solely on your back? That where I have been for the past 30 days. Granted, I feel like this in varying degrees every day, but for some reason it has been hitting hard since my last post- and it has gotten to be too much for me to handle. I have literally cried at some point in the day- EVERY day for 15 days-whether it be from a moving song, a broken heart, feeling like a failure as a mother or teacher, sheer exhaustion or on behalf of a friend's suffering. I have shamefully felt completely devoid of all life, all my joy.

Tonight I was reading Exodus 17:11-13: 

"As long as Moses held up his hands, the Israelites were winning, but whenever he lowered his hands, the Amalekites were winning.When Moses' hands grew tired, they took a stone and put it under him and he sat on it. Aaron and Hur held his hands up--one on one side, one on the other--so that his hands remained steady till sunset.So Joshua overcame the Amalekite army with the sword."

     I am not one who believes things happen as coincidence. I see ties and correlations everywhere in seemingly unconnected things. Maybe the above verse is why we lift our hands when we worship- because worship is not just singing, but warfare. 

     Growing up I always thought that the lifting of hands either symbolized us handing over our sins and cares to the Lord, us offering our sacrifice of praise straight to God or maybe, just as children whose parent just walked in the door wants whatever Mom or Dad has for them,we are supposed to approach God with arms wide open. But now as an adult and after reading this I want to add that maybe it has something to do with why Moses held his hands up. As long as he kept his hands held high, the Israelites would have the upper hand while in battle, but when he grew weak and tired and even, just for a second, had his mind on his own discomfort and weariness the Isrealite army began to be defeated.

     I am at this point now. I want to lift my hands and I want to continue on, but I am just so tired- both physically and spiritually....maybe even even emotionally. I live to do whatever I can to absorb the pain of others and to help in any way I can to set them on the right track to God and back to their joy; yet somehow I never quite get around to doing the same for myself. It feels selfish and I hate that feeling. I need my own personal Aaron and Hur- strong and faithful people who will hold me up when I just want to give up and collapse. 

     Something else I noticed reading this verse: Joshua did the fighting. Granted he had an entire army with him, but Moses did not run around the battlefield with his arms up! Why? Because he wasn't able to do it all! He couldn't physically fight in the battle and be the example to the army with hands held high. We as women (and I am SO talking to myself here) at times feel like we have got to do it all and be it all for those we love and we just can't. When we try, we burn our candles at both ends... and then we aren't any good to anyone anymore. This is easy for me to comprehend but so hard to put into practice. I know how Type A I am so I feel things just get done faster and more efficiently when I do it myself...but I am beginning to see the consequences of this way of thinking. It's just so hard to relinquish control.

Maybe I should just lift my hands and let go.

A Lesson Learned from Pudding

 

 

 

 I love that God chooses my children to teach me lessons and to show me things that can help others on a bigger scale.

Money has been tight, so sweets are scarce. I found a package of French Vanilla Pudding in the back of the snack drawer and quickly set about adding milk to the powder and starting to mix it. Enter my 2 year old- my very strong willed 2 year old, lol. She climbs up on a box she found and asks to help mix. Before I can even say yes or no, her hand is on the back of the mixer and liquified pudding is flying everywhere. Half laughing/half freaking out she shrieks,"MOMMY HELP!" So I go to clean up the mess and take the mixer from her and she tightens her grip and says "NO, I DO IT!"

 

Ooooook, but I insist on keeping my hand on it as well to guide her. Unfortunately, I realize quickly she's not too keen on this idea and begins shaking the mixer everywhere and trying to wriggle it out of my hands, but as pudding goes flying again she starts freaking out..again.

 

It was at this point I begin to see the lesson God is trying to get across to me.

 

When we grab ahold of something we are not ready for, it's gonna make a mess. We cry out to Him for His help and He in all His Fatherly compassion cleans up the mess and tries to take over to make things right and put things back on track. If we allow Him to move, blessings flow. If we don't and are determined to flex our free wills (since the mess is now all gone), we risk creating a bigger mess and testing His patience. He may tighten His grip the next time we finally let go, or He may remove our hands from the situation altogether...thereby causing us to view things as "falling apart" or us "losing control" of our lives. This is the point where we begin whining that God has left us, when in actuality...we went storming off into the next room away from His guiding hand because we are pouting and angry...like my baby girl.

 

But at some point, hopefully, we will return to Him like she did with me- head hung low and heart heavy and sincerely apologize- realizing there is 1 God and we are not Him. It is at this point that He welcomes us back with open arms and blesses us with our pudding.

1P2:9

Last night my oldest daughter was screaming for me around 3am, awakened by a nightmare. Part of that nightmare became a reality when she awoke to find every streetlight and porch light on our block- even the ambient glow from grocery stores over the hills were no longer visible from her window. 

We were in the midst of a complete blackout.

Not having had experienced one of these in over a year and a half, the pitch black and deafening silence scared her and I stumbled out of bed towards her room to bring her comfort. It wasn't until I had tripped over a toy truck my son left in my room, my husband's work boots and simultaneously jammed my pinky toe & elbow against her door frame that I realized I too was a bit nervous and in need of comfort. After a brief chat about the ins and outs of power surges and the effects of everyone in Roane County running their A/C's at the same time, she was lulled back to sleep by my stroking her hair and face.

I got up to head back to my room and in the process fell over and stepped on more than one sharp object, un-put away t-shirt and plastic doll. In frustration at my blindly stumbling in darkness I decided to close my eyes, try to remember the layout of her room to mine with all it's lived in "clutter" and put my hands out willing Jesus to lead me back safely to bed.

And it worked!

Sometimes we think just because we are familiar with our present situations that we can find our own way, never realizing that yes, the situations are familiar but the circumstances are different. I know my room and the path to my girls' room, but under these darkened circumstances I tripped and stumbled more than I ought to have. It wasn't until I closed my eyes and literally let go and let the Lord lead me did I make it to my peace and rest safely. Now the phrase "let go and let God' means something more to me because he showed me in the physical realm what it should mean to me in the spiritual realm. It's like Judy the elf from the movie The Santa Clause said: "Seeing isn't believing. Believing is seeing."

That's exactly what Faith is.