in true form, i've waited almost a year to post here again, but i didn't come empty handed. i have good news/bad news: good news for me: my teeth didn't break at my roommate's wedding. bad news for you: no toothless photos to share. sorry.
Raise your hand if your life looks exactly how you thought it would by now.
Yeah, me neither.
But in a lot of ways, my life looks a whole lot better. Better than I could've dreamed. Better than I would've ever thought to ask God for.
To be honest, i never really tried to imagine my life at 27 in much detail. it always sounded so old. and so far away. i've never been a huge planner - much more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants sort of girl. but i think had you asked 17-year-old me where i'd be in 10 years, i would've told you i'd be living in southern california with my husband and kid(s). not too far from my family or friends. and we'd be doing something exciting with our lives. i wouldn't know much else, but those few details would have been certain.
And I never would've written in the chapters about my parents divorcing, or my grandparents battling dementia, or having my heart break as I was exposed to the suffering of others here & around the world. And I certainly wouldn't have dreamed of learning lessons like having to fight hard for what I want or overcoming my fears or learning how to let go when God says No. All the parts including pain and disappointments of hope deferred would've never made their way into my story.
But I still think the real life version is better.
Don't get me wrong. I miss the days of my healthy grandparents more than I could ever begin to put into words. I miss the familiar stability of my family being a strong backbone in my life. I sometimes wish I could go back to the ignorant bliss of not realizing how much I've been given, in turn not knowing how much is required of me as I become aware of what's happening in our world. It would be great if the things I want most in life came easy and without any risk, and if letting go was never an option because I only ever wanted for things within my reach.
Yeah, 17 was pretty good. But 27 has a beauty to it that's only come from the tough times in between.
I've never meditated more on eternity & the beautiful hope of Heaven than I have while witnessing the winter of my grandparents lives unfold. And in my own pain, I've experienced being comforted in ways I never knew existed. In turn, I've also experienced the sweetness of being able to comfort others in their pain. The type of learning which makes tangible sense of Paul's words when he tells us to rejoice in our sufferings.
Becoming aware of how evil, evil can be, has fueled my heart with passion about God being good and Jesus showing us what it means to bring His kingdom to earth. A conviction that has forever shifted the trajectory of my life.
Deep, meaningful relationships hold the biggest value in my life, yet left to my own devices, they'd all probably only go ankle deep. My propensity has always been to avoid any kind of awkward conflict, but thankfully, i've had people show me what it means to not give up on the important stuff. i've been humbled to learn from them. to know they've fought to love me well. they've taught me how to stand up for what is right and how to fight for those i love. even when that means we get into messy water having to sort through uncomfortable conflict. even if that means we see each other ugly cry. they've showed me that to love people well, you don't settle for mediocre variations of it.
Of course there's also a flip side to fighting for what i want. and i think i hate this learning the most. In the same way i want to be proud of myself for not giving up too soon, i want to be proud of myself for learning how to let go.
Unfortunately, I don't think this will ever come easy. The only comfort I find is in hindsight. For all the times letting go was the absolute last thing I could have wished for, it helps to realize I wouldn't pick those things back up for million dollars now. not even a billion dollars. (okay, maybe a trillion.) But it still sucks. It's still awful. But at least, now I have a rooted hope. A little experience under my belt to nudge me ahead, to whisper in my ear how one day I'll look back at whatever current reluctant release is on my plate and again be thankful I don't always get what I want.
Simply remembering how God has come through for me in the past breathes courage for today. Isn't that true? Sometimes we have to reflect back on ways God has shown Himself faithful to us to remember why we can trust Him today. Why we can relinquish control of the things we hold so tightly. Besides, I dont know about you, but if I were given complete control, there's no doubt I would ruin my life. If not by way of total stupidity, then certainly by the opposite extreme, death of sheer boredom. I'm just glad I'm not God. (We should all be glad I'm not God. Yikes.)
One thing I'm sure of in my life, God knows me better than I know myself. Something I literally have to repeat out loud when I am disappointed. When things don't my way. When no matter how hard I try, I still don't understand. Because ultimately, I believe with my whole heart God is good. And that He loves me. And that He is working things together for good in and through me. In that, I am liberated to keep dreaming. And to take steps forward. And to risk. And to hope. And to know when I feel set back, God is orchestrating me in a better direction.
I'm willing to bet we'd find the same theme repeating if we all exchanged stories. That contrary to every fear raised in our flesh when things don't go our way... when we trust God to be good... we actually allow ourselves to experience His imagination for our lives. Something tells me, He paints in colors we've never seen. I don't know where my life will be at 37, but that's the kind of story I want.
I wrote the following post in January of 2008. I just came across it again and am taken aback with all the memories it stirred. By nothing more than God’s grace, I am so grateful to report my life hasn’t repeated the awful pattern it was stuck in then; however, this theme of choosing to trust God when nothing in me understands has come up again. I thought I’d post this first, but in the next few days I promise to write again, with a follow up to how “letting go” back in 2008 unfolded for me. It is a true testament to the power and faithfulness of God, and hopefully it will encourage anyone who might read these words. For myself, I look forward to the reminder it will serve in my life today.
The Beauty in Letting Go
Song lyrics have always fascinated me. I’ve had a quiet obsession with them since as far back as I can remember. Just about every lyrics website is memorized and ready for the next search... it's generally the first thing I do when a new song tugs at me. There’s something intriguing about how adding a melody to words can have the ability to create distinct feelings.
Like most people, music moves me deeply... it can be cathartic, liberating, electrifying, mood-changing... for the good or the bad. Whether it helps me embrace a feeling I’m trying to escape or helps me escape a feeling I need to embrace, the point is that for me, music has always been powerful. My dear friend Krista and I have a special bond because of our mutual appreciation for the way music moves us. Our friendship rarely includes time together without the introduction of some new song or artist for the other to listen to.... usually shared during a solid late-night drive down Pacific Coast Highway.
I digress. (Big surprise.)
Certain lyrics stay with me longer than others... some of them haunting me in those few and far between, silent moments of my day. Recently, Natalie Maines voice, has been like a broken record, mocking me in a way only music and words can, with the simple line, "the beauty of just letting go." For years, I could have presented a clichéd –Christian- girl answer as to how letting go, of whatever it may be, could be seen as beautiful. But more recently, the cynic in me has crept up full force, not allowing me to justify such thoughts to myself. Beauty in letting go? Isn't that an oxymoron? And the way she throws the "just" in there... it’s as if to say, no biggie. "The beauty of just letting go." She may as well have sung it in Japanese, cause as much as I want to yell AMEN like I know exactly what she's talking about, I haven’t the slightest clue how a task so obviously arduous, could be beautiful. Maybe in hindsight. Sure, I could see that. But beauty during the process? What?! Isn't the whole idea a bit self-righteous?
BUT, for as recently as I’ve been made aware of the cynic within me, I have even more recently realized something else. All those thoughts stirred by that one short line, came from a place in me not yet ready to let go. Not yet ready to surrender to God that of which He was asking.
All my life, I’ve grown so comfortable in my relationship with God, thinking, “Of course I trust Him.” And it is truly humbling to see all the contingencies I hold in that. Such contingencies clearly negate all claims to trust I thought I was a pro at. Theory to practice has yet to become easy, let alone natural. Do I trust God? Before the question is finished, I find myself shouting a resounding YES. Maybe even with a roll of the eye, like “duh, didn’t I learn how to do this when I was 10?” But as I get older, I realize how tightly pried my fingers are on things I don’t want to let go of, things I don’t want to trust him with. Like, “sure God, you can have this and this, but don’t you dare ask me for that!” Or even worse, “Fine God, I’ll give you that so long as you PROMISE to give me this!” How embarrassing I find my honesty.
Sometimes trusting God means letting go and falling backwards with our eyes closed knowing He will catch us. And quite frankly, that scares me to death. Cause what if he doesn’t? What if I heard him wrong? What if it hurts? What if? What if? What if? I could come up with excuses all day… but what I’m learning, often relearning, is that He is, without a doubt, worthy of my trust.
And now here I stand… or rather here I move, forward at that… ready to release - and I’m experiencing the ridiculousness of those lyrics firsthand. There is something truly liberating about letting go. Whether it’s a habit, a person, a fear, or maybe just our own control. Despite all the fears of what that hole will create, the freedom and hope God provides in exchange is overwhelming. It’s surprising. It’s empowering. And it’s actually beautiful.
But letting go, successfully letting go, is so hard. Every 12-step program, support group, counselor, self-help book, rehab worker, etc… will serve to affirm that. In fact, it’s so hard, we often deceive ourselves into thinking
it’s
easier
to
hold
on.
How sad this is.
Holding on to something God asks us to let go of is a sure way to becoming our own worst enemy. Holding on guarantees to serve our own detriment. In those sobering moments of silence, when we’re alone with our thoughts, we find that holding on isn’t as blissful as we’d fooled ourselves into thinking. We discover we’re slaves to that which we won’t let go. And sometimes we realize that holding on isn’t so easy after all.
No, it’s just that letting go is terrifying.
And yet, if there is hope to be had, and there is, there most certainly is! Let it be in this:
Jesus says, “Come unto me. Come all you who are weary and heavy laden.” Meaning, you don't have to clean up first. Or get it together first. Or let it go first...
Just come AS YOU ARE.
And He promises to be there. He promises to be big enough for however you come. For whatever you bring. For whatever you don't bring. The things weighing us down do not threaten Him. All we need to do is come.
That is beautiful.
That is something offered that no other religion or concept of higher power could come close to offering. It’s grace. It’s unconditional. It’s saying, "Dear sweet child, what's beautiful, is you simply coming. I’ll take care of the rest. "
Letting go follows that.
As God is gently reminding me, the first thing I must do, is come as I am. Filthy. Broken. Doubting. Scared. Unsure. Angry. Disappointed. Anxious… whatever it is… and He’ll meet me there. In all my mess. And He’ll still look me in the eyes and love me. I’ve never experienced such a love from my earthly father, so it’s still strange adjusting to, but it’s true. Truth is truth. And His love is truth. And in case you don’t see where this is going… His trustworthiness goes hand in hand with that perfect and unconditional love.
What I’ve noticed in my own life, is that putting myself in his presence, regardless my current state, is KEY to recalling the trust that my love for him produces. My head will NEVER connect to my heart without this. In turn, causing real change impossible to come by until I seek out my relationship with him.
It seems strange how a simple change in the calendar year can be so motivating. Change is usually so scary. And letting go definitely promises change. But there’s something about January that helps spark the optimism behind that idea. Like maybe a clean slate, a fresh start, a new year… we feel somehow ready for change. Ready to let go.
So was Natalie Maines sarcastic as she sung about the beauty in letting go? No. She JUST got it.
What’s beautiful in letting go?
That we can come as we are, and He’ll help us with the rest.
That there is hope to follow.
That we serve a faithful God who wants our best more than we do.
In an effort to inspire hope in the lives of anyone who may stumble across these words, may I extend the same challenge to you that God handed me for the New Year:
Let go.
Whatever it is.
Fear. Pain. The past. Addiction. Hopelessness. Pride. Unforgiveness. Guilt…
Whatever it is that is holding you down -
Just let it go.
Let 2008 be the kick in the pants if you need one.
Let the promise of hope spur you on.
Let the goodness of God carry you through it.
And if you need help finding a good theme song, I’m your girl. :)
But don’t wait to come to Him.
Come as you are. He’ll get you ready for the rest.
Come find the beauty in letting go. . .
I promise you it will be worth it.
To be continued…
Today I witnessed beauty in it's rawest form.
It is good to be home. My heart feels such a lightness here. I was surrounded last night by the sweet friends God has given me. Most of us have gone through some big changes this last year... Dave joined the army and has been training in Atlanta. Michelle moved to Egypt to teach. I was in Nashville. Darren & Kayli were married 6 months ago. Reed, Rouse, Kaeli & the Shintakus have all been adjusting to life changes too. And last night, sitting around that dinner table, all of us agreed we were HOME. 
