Well, at the risk of sounding completely incongruous....I'm writing right now because lately my mind has been swirling with one of those storms that pushes thoughts up against the corners and leaves them circling in little flurries -- sometimes for days. I am bombarded by them. I lose sleep over them. I am faced with them at every turn. I guess these storms of the mind come with the storms of life in a two-for-one deal; I've never experienced otherwise. And so I am writing some (or one -- we'll see) of these thoughts down in hopes of capturing some truth. For any attempt to verbalize them have left me stranded with only a trace left, melting on my tongue -- a fragment that doesn't make sense to anyone.
In an attempt to hold this very unpredictable post together: the lyrics of a song by one of my very favorite people of all time -- Rich Mullins.
Well, sometimes my life
Just don't make sense at all
When the mountains look so big
And my faith just seems so small
So hold me Jesus,
'cause I'm shaking like a leaf
You have been King of my glory
Won't You be my Prince of Peace
And I wake up in the night and feel the dark
It's so hot inside my soul
I swear there must be blisters on my heart
So hold me Jesus,
'cause I'm shaking like a leaf
You have been King of my glory
Won't You be my Prince of Peace
Surrender don't come natural to me
I'd rather fight You for something
I don't really want
Than to take what You give that I need
And I've beat my head against so many walls
Now I'm falling down, I'm falling on my knees
And this Salvation Army band
Is playing this hymn
And Your grace rings out so deep
It makes my resistance seem so thin
So hold me Jesus, 'cause I'm shaking like a leaf
You have been King of my glory
Won't You be my Prince of Peace
I'm singing, hold me Jesus
'cause I'm shaking like a leaf
You have been King of my glory
Won't You be my Prince of Peace.
You have been King of my glory,
Won't You be my Prince
of Peace.
"Surrender don't come natural to me." Understatement of the year, right? I'm reminded of an incident when my son, 4 years old at the time, refused to allow me passage into his mouth to see what exactly he had shoved in there. He held out for so long, I was sure the chocolate would have melted completely away once I pried that mouth open. For chocolate it was, streaming down both sides of his lips, both squeezed so tightly together that even as he cried his tears were muffled beneath them. He knew he would be in trouble for "sneaking" candy. And he was not going to be caught.
So stubborn have I been for these many months of a struggle I am being worn out by. And just as ridiculous in my endeavor. And I haven't yet let it go; tonight after my conversation with the Almighty, He would not let me steer clear of that fact. I have held onto all of it, all year: the fear, the anger, the frustration, the anxiety, the heartache, the hurt, the feeling of failure, the despair -- all of the ammunition the enemy has thrown at me. I've simply caught it all and held it close, intending, I suppose, to use it in some way. To make me stronger. To make it count. Simply shrugging it off was not an option to consider. This has hurt too much to just let it fall........at His feet.
Unless you've been there, none of this is making sense. Maybe you have and it still doesn't. (If so, please don't share that in the comments ;) But if it's clicking, if you're tracking, then I'd like to share the verse that I came upon tonight in hopes of sparing you some grief. And to hold myself accountable, in some sense:
Do not say, "I'll pay you back for this wrong!"Now, there are a mountain of reasons why bitterness is never our out in a situation with an enemy. I'm not going into those, suffice to say: it is a cancer. It will eat away the life inside of you. But this verse struck another cord in me, the one that had a tight grip on all the damage that has been done these past years. And this is the deal:
Wait for the LORD, and he
will deliver you.
--Proverbs 20:22
It's not mine to handle. It's not mine to hold. It's not mine to set right or to avenge or to rescue from. Those attempts will, in effect, only add a goose-egg to my forehead. As I bang my head over and over against the same wall, they will cause more pain, more frustration, with NO RESOLUTION whatsoever. I have got to let them go.
Easier said than done, my friend. I think sometimes we are so afraid to cast our burdens on the God that cares for us because we are not sure He will appreciate our "burdens" -- how much they have cost us or frightened us or weighed us down. We are afraid He will expect us to bounce back. To just spring right up, like the grass that is pushed underfoot momentarily. No, these are our griefs to bear. And we bear them with stoic determination, each step another weary testament to our foolishness.
And then, sometimes I think we want to hold onto the hurts because we have become accustomed to them and don't want them brushed aside. We think that in bottling it up, we are somehow capturing the strength for some kind of "pay back" opportunity that will come along. To dignify our suffering, at least. How could we otherwise vouch for so much "wasted time"? How else can we be sure we will see justice in the end?
In response to these very real doubts, these battles that I know I will encounter again, tomorrow, I simply offer a prayer:
"Hold me, Jesus."
Hold me, not only to support my broken frame, but to keep me from handling those burdens any more. I need You to still my hand. I need You to stop my foot from going any further with it. And though I don't know how You will deal with all of this, I am trusting that You will indeed, deal. There will be resolution, by the power of Your name.
For You, alone, can be my Prince of Peace.


