Rest. Wait. Trust.
Be still. Let go of control and believe My timing is good. Bring your not enough and I will make it more than enough.
After I picked myself up off the ground and sprayed my clothes, God continued to press lessons on my heart. With each aching beat, I remembered. I couldn’t see crystal clear yet, but I knew there was a lesson trying to break free to dance in front of my eyes.
That day on the ground wasn’t the end of a lesson, but a beginning. It wasn’t a moment of complete healing, but a bonk over the head. A wake up call so to speak. A reminder of how easy it is for me to run from my reality instead of accepting my life the way it is. It is all too easy for me to slip into a gradual decline into control and rush again. Attempts to prove my worth, my value. It’s this bad habit all too common with me.
My brain and heart know the truth, but like a well worn path my feet gravitate toward old habits over and over again. With each realization I have stumbled again, I want to stomp. To shake off the dust of unhealthy habits. I condemn myself and grumble.
Yet, God doesn’t do that. I shame myself while God extends mercy. He leads me with His kind and gentle hand toward clarity. He doesn’t shove or belittle. He beckons.
And I wrestle and writhe. I fight and whine. Like a little kid who can’t see past her own nose.
Like my daughter this morning when she didn’t get her way. She stomps her tiny feet to her room and slams her door. Hard. Rolling my shoulders back I make my way to her room. The well worn path of stomping and hurt feelings. I grumble inside. Why can’t she obey? Why can’t she understand I am for her? Why can’t she stop fighting me?
I try to gather her in my arms, she shoves me away. I tell her to calm down, she screams. Tears are shed and discipline is administered. Then when things calm down, when the striving and fighting ceased, my daughter turns to me and in a hungry way launches her tiny body onto mine. Wrapping her small arms around me, she buries her face into the crook of my neck. I embrace her, gently we rock back and forth. I kiss her head and tell her I love her. I remind her I am for her and it is in her best interest to obey and trust me.
Then, like nothing happened she launches off my lap. She is off to play free from the burden of brokenness that chained her two seconds before. I linger longer, pondering what happened and how it mirrors what God is teaching me personally.
This life is less about getting it right all the time and more about acknowledging our struggles. When we face them we can rest in God’s embrace instead of fighting Him. He is a kind parent, He knows what is best for us. While I fight His leading because I think I know better, He says, trust Me, I am for you.
As a recovering overachiever I take information in and then run to execute it like no one’s business. The harder I run, the more I take in, the less I feel I am enough. The less I feel I am enough, the harder I push to do more. Be more.
I feel God’s hand on my soul saying rest, trust, wait.
I yell NO. I reason if do less, I will feel worse, not better. I can’t stop. I can’t let go of anything. In desperation I have been adding more to my life to meet my ideals. Letting go makes less sense to my brain than running exhausted.
Then I find myself laying on the ground realizing I can’t fight it anymore. I must stop, I must rest, wait, trust. I must remember that the little boy who brought fishes and loaves to Jesus did not have enough to feed the thousands of people splayed out before him. But Jesus took his meager offering and turned it into more than enough.
The down days, the hard knocks, they arn’t a waste. There is no condemnation. We can learn from them. We can throw ourselves into our Father’s loving embrace then rocket off on our next adventure.
The lesson I took away from this fall down moment is I need to measure my productivity based on the peace in my heart, not on the things I can get done. The more I try to get done, it seems the more my peace vanishes. The more I lean into the peace flooding my soul from the Spirits direction, the more I seem to get done somehow. It is as if Jesus is taking my not enough and making it more than enough.
My friend, when you find yourself flat on your back, remind yourself, these moments can be kind teachers. Instead of fighting any longer, launch yourself into your Father’s loving embrace and follow His kind leading. Rest, wait, trust. Find victory in peace, not productivity.
Now the Passover, a feast of the Jews, was near. Then Jesus lifted up His eyes, and seeing a great multitude coming toward Him, He said to Philip, “Where shall we buy bread, that these may eat?” But this He said to test him, for He Himself knew what He would do. Philip answered Him, “Two hundred denarii worth of bread is not sufficient for them, that every one of them may have a little.” One of His disciples, Andrew, Simon Peter’s brother, said to Him, “There is a lad here who has five barley loaves and two small fish, but what are they among so many? Then Jesus said, “Make the people sit down.” Now there was much grass in the place. So the men sat down, in number about five thousand. And Jesus took the loaves, and when He had given thanks He distributed them to the disciples, and the disciples to those sitting down; and likewise of the fish, as much as they wanted. So when they were filled, He said to His disciples, “Gather up the fragments that remain, so that nothing is lost.” Therefore they gathered them up, and filled twelve baskets with the fragments of the five barley loaves which were left over by those who had eaten. Then those men, when they had seen the sign that Jesus did, said, “This is truly the Prophet who is to come into the world.”
John 6:4-14
[…] Read part 2 here. […]