That face speaks all kinds of defiance, frustration and
anger. A word doesn’t even need to
be uttered in order for the message to come across loud and clear, “I do not
like not getting my way. I don’t want to listen and obey!” The fists ball up in a last ditch
effort to keep hold of something; dignity, control, voice.
My first thought when I recall this scene is, “oh that three
year old of mine. He is a passionate little bugger! There he goes, making sure he can still exert what little
control he has!”
My mental chiding comes to a halt when I realize I am looking
in the mirror and not at a picture of my son with his tousled hair and
blue/green eyes. My eyes drop to
the ground at the realization that I am the one whose fists have been balled up
for quite a while now. I have defiance written all over my face as I stand
before my Heavenly Father, the Creator of the Universe and the God of all.
I could take you through all of the excuses I have for why I
am at this place in life, but they are only that, excuses. Granted, like Little
t, they hold weight and I like to camp on them as a way to grasp for straws and
make my argument seem right. But when it all comes down to it, I have taken a
lot of what isn’t mine: a desire for control, fear and worry about the future,
the right to make decisions in my life, justification of selfishness.
I know in the back of my head that I am better off with God in
charge, but my three year old self kicks in and oooohhhhh, it is so hard to let
go!
Because letting go means unclinching my fists. It means giving
up what little say I feel I have in things. It means giving up those two or
three things that aren’t really productive ways to spend my time, but I really
like them. It means stopping to play with my kids instead of working on my
agenda and trying to actually get something done for once. It means thinking
about others before myself. It
means stepping out in faith when everything in me wants to put on the breaks
and sit down and cry.
My society, and my human heart and mind tells me I am entitled
to making my own decisions, taking time to myself no matter who needs me then,
having hobbies or obsessions that are destructve to living simply and my
pocketbook. It tells me that I
deserve a life that is good and rich and easy. It tells me to grab all I can
and hold on tight. The more I grab and the harder I clinch, the happier I will
be.
And then Jesus comes along and says, ‘let go.”
He says these crazy, radical things like, “come to me all you
who are weary and heavy laden and I will give you rest.” It isn’t about taking
time to ourselves. It’s not about what we can pamper ourselves with, or what we
can buy that will help us look put together. It is about coming to Him tired and broken and frail. It’s
about leaving it all at the door and letting Him fill us up with the richess of
His goodness and mercy.
I keep thinking
about these verses in John 12: “I tell you the truth, unless a kernal of wheat
falls to the ground and dies, it remains only a single seed. But if it dies, it
produces many seeds. The man who loves his life will lose it, while the man who
hates his life in this world will keep it for eternal life. Whoever serves me must follow me; and
where I am, my servant will also be. My father will honor the one who serves
me.”
I want that, but I don’t. I know what is in clenched fists…ugly stinky stuff that gets
caught and festers. My baby
girl’s fists are just now beginning to unclench and turn human. Before that
they were a goldmine of lint and dirt and sweat. And if she got a hold of a
piece of naan – there was no way anyone could take it away. She would hang on
to that ‘treasure’ for dear life! Mine are the same way. That addiction to bags
that doesn’t do anyone any good – it needs to go. The adamance that I must have
a say in where we go next and what the future holds must be surrendered for the
promise that He will guide in good ways when I trust in Him, even when that
means I can’t see what is coming next.
My bad attitude toward my kids when they need something at an
inconvienent time - shameful. They are my job afterall. More importantly, I so
often lose sight of the blessing they are.
So, this new year is not full of grand resolutions for me. I
kinda hang my head in shame to be honest. I just have to admit that I have been
less surrendered to God and His good plan for me that I want to be…than I need
to be. My goal of the year is to
unclench my fists. To look Him in the face and have Him wash my hands of the
things that have been keeping me from surrendering to Him. I want to lay it down and walk in His
ways no matter what.
I know He leads well. I know His plans are best. I long to let
Him lead me in good ways as I freely surrender to Him each day.
