What Would Happen If You Just Loosened Your Grip?

This morning I woke up to go workout, but with a last minute cancellation from my workout partner, I found myself fully-dressed, caffeinated, and wide-awake with a good hour and half before I had to wake the girls for school.

So I spent that time listening to the Lord. The Lord does speak to us, despite what we may think to the contrary. He spoke to me of trust and my lack thereof.  He whispered sweet endearing words, assuring me of His love for me and my value to Him. And then this song came into my mind, and I sang it, out loud, in my squeaky early morning voice.  

These are the words to the song:

I confess my hope 
In the light of Your salvation 
Where I lose myself 
I will find You're all I need

Sing my soul of the Savior's love 
Sing my soul Unto God alone 

I will meet You here 
In the life we call surrender 
Let the world I know 
Be the glory of Your grace

You alone are God 
You alone are God 
We declare the glory of Your name 

Holding On

I try so hard to hang on, to control things.  I have fooled myself (many times) into believing that by controlling my own life, I have found freedom.  I can do what I want, what *I* think is right. I can course correct, make adjustments, go my own road. But the reality is that nothing could be farther from the truth. There is no freedom in being in control.  There is worry, and anxiety, and heartache. There is bondage.

Where I lose myself, I will find you're all I need. There is rich, deep truth in that sentence.

I sat across the table from a friend of mine a while back. Her life was out of control, spinning in a crazy chaos and she said to me, "You know, I'm just white-knuckling it. Just hanging on the best I can."  And I said to her, "What would happen if you just let go?"

All that to say, What would happen if we just loosened our grip? What would happen if *you* just let go? The scary part is removing our hands. Letting go . . .

I Peter 5:7 Cast your cares upon Him because He cares for you.

What are you holding onto today that would set you free if you released it?

I Feel the Rush

I feel the Spirit of God moving in me today, a feeling that is at once  both exhilarating and terrifying.

It's a sense of anticipation and foreboding, which of course makes no sense whatsoever to my rational mind.

The closest thing I can relate it to is giving birth.  One minute the thrill of bringing a life into this world overwhelms you and just as quickly you are hit by the overwhelming realization of what it takes to bring a life into this world.


Knowing that God speaks to me, at all, is incredibly humbling. But knowing that He moves through me, searching me, going beyond the surface things the world can see, into the deepest part of me, that thought is overwhelming.

I trust the Holy Spirit. I trust the way He speaks to me. I trust what He uncovers in me and encourages me to tackle.  I trust His affection for me. He has proven himself to me over and over.

"And it is the Spirit who bears witness, because the Spirit is truth."- I John 5:6

All that to say, I trust the Spirit of God because what He speaks is truth, and where the Spirit of the Lord is, where truth is, there is freedom. I feel the rush of His Spirit today, speaking truths I need to hear. Sweet truth, liberating truth, His truth.

I wonder, what truth is He speaking to you today?

Bitterness is Like a Chili Dog

I was looking for a quote the other day for a client's blog when I came across this quote by Martin Luther King, Jr.

"Never succumb to the temptation of bitterness." 

Read it again slowly. It has more meaning that way. 

Never succumb to the temptation of bitterness.

Never, not ever, not on any day, in any moment, for even a second, should you allow yourself to give in to the call of bitterness; for she does, indeed, call out to you. She wants you. She seduces you to come to her side. But Bitterness is a liar and a cruel mistress.

Never succumb, nor give in, nor release yourself to, nor shackle yourself to Bitterness. She is cunning, and her chains are heavy and binding.

Never succumb to the temptation. Oh how easy it is to give way to the temptation. To allow yourself that short moment to justify your anger, to rationalize your hurt. 

How sweet the scent of Bitterness as she presses in, whispering seductively, "You deserve to be mad. No one has the right to treat you that way." 

Never succumb to the temptation of Bitterness. For once you have opened the door to her, she will not soon leave.

All that to say, bitterness is like a chili dog, it tastes good going down, but the lingering effects aren't good for you or anyone around you. 

(I thought I'd end sounding more like Carol Jones and less like Henry Ward Beecher.)

Sitting in the Middle of the Road

I was driving home last Friday  morning from an early morning walk with friends.  For a Friday, the roads were surprisingly empty, but I suppose it's because it was the Friday after the Fourth of July and more people than usual were sleeping in.

As I drove, somewhat lost in my own thoughts, I happened to notice a gorgeous black lab sitting in the median up ahead of me.  He sat there, very stoic-looking, and incredibly relaxed for a dog sitting in a median. As I approached, I realized he was sitting next to another dog who was dead.

When I got home, I couldn't shake the image of the beautiful black lab standing guard over what I can only assume was his friend, his fellow traveler, his mate.  He didn't appear to be anxious, or waiting for help.  He simply sat, perhaps still in shock, perhaps mourning, perhaps simply not knowing what to do next.

Feeling His Pain

And oddly, I felt a kinship to his story.  A very huge part of what I know to be "me" is gone.  And I find that I am simply sitting, somewhat in shock (yes, still), somewhat in mourning, and somewhat simply not knowing what to do next.

On a walk with a friend this morning, I was explaining to her that I feel lost in trying to re-establish community within the church.  And it occurred to me as we talked, that all the reasons I give for not being "able" to find a church to attend are excuses. The real reason is that I am mad "at" the church, and therefore don't really want to attend any church.

She told me that was like having a bad experience with an oil and gas company and deciding I just wasn't going to ever buy oil and gas again. . . (or something like that . . . I was in the moment. It was beautiful when she said it.)

The Middle of the Road

At its core, I have unforgiveness in my heart.  I am frozen in that unforgiveness, and I am the only one who can really do anything at all about it.  It's somewhat disheartening to know that I have within myself, the Power to set myself free.  And yet, like that beautiful black lab, I choose to sit, frozen in the middle of the road, unable or unwilling to move.

All that to say, knowing WHAT to do and DOING it are often two very different things. I can't sit here in the middle of the road much longer, for it's a very dangerous place to sit. I am assured that God's best for me is still ahead of me.  I'm just gonna need to get ON the road and out of the middle of it. 

Carol

In Honor of My Birthday

If we aren't very careful, I think it is very easy to live a topsy-turvey, life-upside-down kind of life, spending time on pursuits that don't matter at the sake of the things in our lives that do.

Perhaps I am just being philosophical because it is my birthday, but I have come to realize that the ability to waste your life is something that comes far too easily for most of us, while LIVING your life, the full, abundant life we are called to live, takes incredible effort.

I made  a list of the things that have wasted my life (and discarded it ceremoniously).  

These are the things that are worth living for:

My deep faith that challenges me, rescues me, protects me and sustains me;

My husband and children, who are the best part of me;

My family that loves me unconditionally, and 

My treasured friends (they know who they are, I don't have to name them) who have weathered life's storms alongside me and still call me friend.

In honor of my birthday, I say to you

LIVE YOUR LIFE TO THE FULLEST.  

All that to say, that is all.  Carry on.  

A Million Dollar Yes, A Million Dollar No

I recently had the opportunity to make millions of dollars.  I'm not even kidding. (I kind of wish I was.)

It's hard to turn down millions of dollars.  Trust me, I know.

I know because I didn't turn it down. I said yes.  I said, "Hell yes."  (Sorry.  I did.)

But I didn't say yes without running it by some very important people.

I asked my husband what he thought.

I asked my friends what they thought.

I asked some really great business gurus what they thought.

And they all said "Do it!"

So I jumped in with both feet.  But then I started second guessing myself.  I couldn't put my finger on it, but I had a pretty compelling feeling that I wasn't "supposed" to take the offer.

But I pushed forward and kept going.  Soon, the "feeling" became a loud pounding in my spirit.  It got so loud that I finally just shut down, curled up in my bed, and asked God what I should do.

I felt like he said to me, "Great question, Carol.  Maybe you should have asked me in the first place."

Ummmm . . . yeah . . .

Ouch.

Truth hurts.

Funny thing about asking God what HIS plan is.  Once you know it, and relinquish your control  (and possibly millions of dollars) to obey it, all the questions, all the second guessing, and all the wrestling is over.

I'm not telling you it was an easy decision, but obeying God's will is always, always, always, the best  and only real option.

All that to say, I guess I won't be buying the house of my dreams out in the country, with a pool and horses (two things I've been told would be GREAT for the girls).  But hey, if God wants us to have a pool and horses, we will.  And if not, that's okay too.  He's probably got a better plan. Probably.

All That to Say: A Strange Peace in the Midst of Surrender

Some months ago I heard a message about predestination (I'm a Christ Follower and I've provided a link if this is a new term for you), and I have to say that for the very first time it struck me in a profound way, a way that totally jacked up my prayer life.

I asked a lot of questions of my Pastor following that message; questions like, "So basically, God already knows every person who will either accept or reject His Son, Jesus.  Correct?"   His answer: Yes.  "God not only knows, but He has ORDAINED who will accept or reject His Son, Jesus.  Correct?"  His answer:  Yes.  "There's nothing I can say or do, or another person can say or do, that will cause someone to accept or reject Jesus, correct?"  Answer:  Yes.

"Then why does it matter if I tell someone about Jesus or not?" Answer: "Because God tells us to."

So the part that jacked up my prayer life was, "why should I pray if it is already figured out?!"

Prior to this message, I had a very rich prayer life, filled with lots of dialogue about pretty much everything.  And it went from that to nothing.  Because I suddenly felt like I didn't know how to pray, or worse yet that my prayers didn't matter.  And I have to confess to you that I didn't pray at all, for months. . . And then I lost my job.  Talk about a dialogue opener.

Over the course of the last few weeks since I left, I have noticed something about my prayers.  Most of my prayers were me trying to tell God how to be God.  I was constantly telling Him how I thought things should happen, how I thought they should have gone down, how I wanted things to change, what I needed, what He should do . . .  in short, I wanted to be in control.

And then I was struck with this thought; what if I just released my need to control and instead just focused on the majesty, the authority, the awesomeness of God?  What if I just surrendered to the idea that His plan was good and for my good, and quit trying to give Him a better plan?  What if I just worshiped Him, rejoicing each day in what He was doing in my life, what He was giving and what He was taking away?"

That's not to say that I don't still share my struggles, my hurts, my hopes and my fears with Him.  It's just that I'm not telling God what I think He should do.  I do still wake up most mornings asking, "Why?"  But the answer has quickly become, "Because this is what God has for my life.  This was His plan, and that's the only answer to "why?" that I need to remember."

All that to say, I'm sure that this will be a work in progress.  I'm a control freak.  But I have a strange peace in this place of surrender.  There's a lot of freedom in giving up control, which sounds like an oxymoron, but it's deep truth.

Free

Hi, I'm Carol, and I'm a control freak. Isn't admitting it like half the battle? If only that were true. I think I have known this about myself for quite some time now. Periodically I try to address it, but find that I am pretty good at seeing this as a strength and not a weakness.

But I am a control freak. I want everything to be great, at all times, and when things aren't great, I try to "fix" them, usually to my demise. You'd think my lack of success in this area would change me, but alas, I have been undaunted in my pursuit of controlling my life.

Yesterday, all throughout the day, really starting from early in the wee dark hours of the morning, this scripture started rolling through my mind. "It is for freedom that I have set you free."

I used to think this scripture meant that I have been freed from the wages of sin. And maybe it does. Maybe it does mean I have been freed from hell. And maybe it means I have been freed from the bondage of sin.

But yesterday, to me, it meant that I am free, and that if I can only release my control, my white-knuckled, tight-fisted control on my life and the details of it, I can walk in freedom. So I did. I released the things that were worrisome. I released the things that I can't control. I released the things I can control. And I felt free.

All that to say, it is indeed for freedom that we have been set free. Walking in freedom, unburdened by the events of yesterday or what tomorrow will bring, unburdened by what I think I have to control today . . . it feels good people.