Isaiah 43 : 1b-3a
“ Fear not, for I have redeemed you;
I have called you by your name;
You are Mine.
2 When you pass through the waters, I will be with you;
And through the rivers, they shall not overflow you.
When you walk through the fire, you shall not be burned,
Nor shall the flame scorch you.
3 For I am the LORD your God..”
ღஜ♥ Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ ♥ஜღ
I love this scripture, but how many times have I forgotten it when faced with a crisis? How often have I crawled into some dark corner of doubt, curled into a fetal position and surrendered to the tendrils of fear slowly wrapping themselves around my faith?
I wrote to a friend the other day that I felt I had become a “hopeless hoarder of helplessness”. Now sometimes – no, make that most times – our concerns are valid. In my case, it was a check that just didn’t arrive and it was one knock too many. How many is too many? Well, in the end, it turns out it’s just one … that one final event/knock/crisis that takes you to the edge of crippling numbness, that pushes you over the precipice of spiritual paralysis and ultimately makes you forget Who walks by your side, Who supports you when you’re too tired to take another step, Who gathers you up and allows you to cleave as He carries you through the torrent of fear.
Prayer, mine and that of some mighty warriors, along with time on my knees, wrapping my arms around my Savior, brought insight. Boy, do I cling to my problems instead of turning them over to Him. And then of course, there’s the step that’s paramount … actually letting go.
There’s no moral or object lesson here, but I know how very many people feel swamped by life right now. When it’s no longer possible to make lemonade out of life’s lemons, when you feel overwhelmed by stress or fear of what tomorrow may bring, stop hoarding those problems. If you sit back and – as objectively as possible – examine just how many troubles you have amassed, you will be amazed.
Someone posted this on Facebook the other day:
“I used to love yard sales. Now, I live in one.”
I realized this was a metaphor for my life. What started out as a small collection had become a veritable treasure trove of troubles. Troubles I had surrounded myself with for so long, I would be lost within them.
Somewhere in the midst of clinging to the Cross the other night, I heard a whisper. “Let them go,” it said. Easier said than done. Ultimately, God knows what’s best for you, even if, in the moment, you aren’t always able to fathom His wisdom. Time and hindsight are great witnesses to the truth of this, but that takes – well, time.
Nothing physical has changed since the other night. Nothing except my heart. I don’t know what the future holds. I have no idea what God has planned for our lives, or how we’re going to overcome some of the difficulties we are currently facing. But I know that I feel like I held the world’s largest garage sale and didn’t have anything to pack away afterwards.
And it feels wonderful.