Hold is actually a hard word for me, because hold is what I do too much of.
Hold onto the past.
Hold onto a grudge.
Hold onto life because change is frightening.
More often, when I think of the word “hold”, I think of the opposite of it…let go.
(Which then causes me to sing like Elsa…uggg). I digress.
I tend to think of hold in a pessimistic, negative way.
And I never think of hold in what Jesus does to me. That He does hold me.
While I need to let go of so many things, He never lets me go.
I am graven into His hands and heart and there is no erasing me from him.
What I do need to hold onto is hope.
Hope right now reminds me of jello. It’s slippery and I can’t seem to carry it and hold it on a spoon without it wiggling and falling off. I keep losing it.
I’m wondering if I’m losing hold of it because I’m trying to pick it up too quickly? I’m trying to move through life too quickly? I’m trying to cram hope onto this tiny, little spoon when really what I need to do is scoop it up with a huge bowl.
Here’s to a big bowl of wiggly, jiggly hope.
That’s what I’m holding onto today.
So this blog has sat silent for a ridiculous amount of time. I stopped for a lot of reasons, but mostly because I was tired of writing and putting myself out there in some crazy cloud/blogosphere. But things lately have made me realize that my stopping writing and my stopping journaling has really shrunken my soul. It has in many ways contributed to my sense of lost-ness and confusion.
When we don’t have a way of letting out the things we put in we just become stuffed and full. And eventually things do start to come out, but maybe not the things we had hoped. It’s not that I’ve been stuffing myself with bad or wrong things…but all the negative thoughts I struggle with and even the scripture I cling to combat it are in some ways meaningless to me if I don’t let them out. If I don’t process them and just let them simmer inside.
So I’m ready. I’m ready to come back to letting out the thoughts and things that linger and simmer and are stuffed up in my head.
I’m ready for Jesus to come in and start cleaning out all the negative and emptying me out so that I can be filled with nothing but His goodness.
And not overfilled…but ready to be overflowing and poured out for His good.
You know when you go to a swimming pool and you put your toe in the water and think, “man, that is going to be so cold!”? So then you decide to just creep in, thinking that if you just do it inch by inch that it won’t be as painful. More often than not you are surrounded by people who are urging you to just jump in. And more often than not, you refuse to believe that jumping in would be less painful that this creeping along.
What is it about us that makes us think that creeping along the path of life will make anything easier? Some decisions in our lives need much prayer and discernment, don’t get me wrong with that. But so often, we know where the Lord is leading us and instead of just jumping in we creep along.
“I just need some more time to pray and make sure; to be as discerned as I can possibly be.”
“I just want to have a few more days to sit with this choice”
“I’m not ready, God. There is so much I need to do to prepare for a.b.or c.”
All along the Lord is like our friends prodding us to stop moving inch by inch.
Sure the water is going to be a shock to us no matter how warm it is. (I mean getting in a hot tub takes your breath away too if you think about it.)
But even if you go inch by inch, eventually you are going to have to be all in.
That is what it is to say “yes” to God. To open up your hands to whatever He might put in them or lead you too. And obedience to His plan is us jumping in. Not creeping by trying to make it happen in our time. Eventually we have to get wet.
Linking up with many others
Writing for five minutes without edits
Today’s word is “after”
I spend my life living too much with the word before and after.
Before is a place of memory. Sometimes beautiful and sometimes regretful.
The birth of each of my babies.
The frustration in my voice as the last words my baby hears before he walks into school.
Beauty and regret.
After is a place of the unknown.
Yet it is a place where I think I can grasp control.
Where I can change what might happen.
After is a place of fear and worry.
It’s the here and now; the present that is hardest to live.
To engage with the now.
To engage with the minutes before me.
How easy it is the sit with the before and try and control the after!
And it is the present where I can move and live and make choices.
It is engaging with what is in front of me that I can change the after.
But in the after there is also forgiveness and grace.
There is resurrection in the after.
There is Jesus.
Writing bare for five minutes on one word.
Hosted by the gypsy mama
Today word, this Good Friday, is broken.
When I think of Good Friday, I think of Peter.
Of all the 12, I am most like Peter.
So puffed up and sure in myself. Thinking that I’ve got it all under control.
And then a rooster crows and these eyes are on me.
Eyes that see right through me and into those places of truth.
The broken places that I’ve taped back together.
And then He is broken. And I see him and wonder what was it all for?
All this time following and believing.
And as He is broken there for me
and as I sit an question and feel abandoned
I do know, just as He healed the ear of the man that was ripped off in an act of supposed gallantry,
when those eyes see me and see those broken places, there is healing.
The brokenness is not forever.