Letting Go
As children bring their broken toys
with tears for us to mend,
I brought my broken dreams to God,
because He is my friend.
But then instead of leaving Him
in peace to work alone,
I hung around and tried to help
with ways that were my own.
At last I snatched them back and cried,
"How could you be so slow?"
"My child," He said, "what could I do?
You never did let go."
This little poem came to mind this week, dredged up from some foggy corner of my sleep deprived mind, and reminded me of how the Lord’s best work in my life comes when I let go and allow Him to turn my messes into miracles. Since Aerin was born, my mind has raced from one problem to another, wondering how I would fix it, fight it off, minimize it, manipulate it, or make it happen. And the deeper I got my hands into everything, the harder and the messier it got. This is deliberately vague, forgive me, but suffice it to say that we’ve had some pressing needs snowball lately and were desperately seeking some answers.
Finally, this past week, I came to the end of myself and dumped everything in my Father’s lap with a rush of tears. I was broken and hurt and worried and overwhelmed and I just couldn’t spin my wheels any longer. Aerin’s diagnosis has come bundled with a slew of physical, emotional and financial baggage that had weighed me down so much that many days, I struggled to lift my eyes. And therein lies the great tragedy: He would gladly have taken my burden from me at any time, but I clung to it as the child who will not relinquish the broken toy. And with my tear-filled eyes fixed firmly on the broken toy, and not on the Father who wanted to make it right, I wasted precious time and energy.
Once I let everything go, the Lord was able to start His work, which is so much more glorious than mine anyway. And prayers have been answered, in wonderful and mysterious ways, and blessings have rained down upon us. Or maybe they were there all along, I just couldn’t see them for my stubborn blindness. Please don’t misunderstand--my problems have not disappeared. But they are in His hands, where they belong and where they have settled into their proper place and priority. Now, I work to resist the temptation to snatch them back, o foolish flesh that I am.
As children bring their broken toys
with tears for us to mend,
I brought my broken dreams to God,
because He is my friend.
But then instead of leaving Him
in peace to work alone,
I hung around and tried to help
with ways that were my own.
At last I snatched them back and cried,
"How could you be so slow?"
"My child," He said, "what could I do?
You never did let go."
This little poem came to mind this week, dredged up from some foggy corner of my sleep deprived mind, and reminded me of how the Lord’s best work in my life comes when I let go and allow Him to turn my messes into miracles. Since Aerin was born, my mind has raced from one problem to another, wondering how I would fix it, fight it off, minimize it, manipulate it, or make it happen. And the deeper I got my hands into everything, the harder and the messier it got. This is deliberately vague, forgive me, but suffice it to say that we’ve had some pressing needs snowball lately and were desperately seeking some answers.
Finally, this past week, I came to the end of myself and dumped everything in my Father’s lap with a rush of tears. I was broken and hurt and worried and overwhelmed and I just couldn’t spin my wheels any longer. Aerin’s diagnosis has come bundled with a slew of physical, emotional and financial baggage that had weighed me down so much that many days, I struggled to lift my eyes. And therein lies the great tragedy: He would gladly have taken my burden from me at any time, but I clung to it as the child who will not relinquish the broken toy. And with my tear-filled eyes fixed firmly on the broken toy, and not on the Father who wanted to make it right, I wasted precious time and energy.
Once I let everything go, the Lord was able to start His work, which is so much more glorious than mine anyway. And prayers have been answered, in wonderful and mysterious ways, and blessings have rained down upon us. Or maybe they were there all along, I just couldn’t see them for my stubborn blindness. Please don’t misunderstand--my problems have not disappeared. But they are in His hands, where they belong and where they have settled into their proper place and priority. Now, I work to resist the temptation to snatch them back, o foolish flesh that I am.
Be merciful to me, O God, be merciful to me!
For my soul trusts in You;
And in the shadow of Your wings I will make my refuge,
Until these calamities have passed by.
I will cry out to God Most High,
To God who performs all things for me.
He shall send from heaven and save me;
He reproaches the one who would swallow me up. Selah
God shall send forth His mercy and His truth.
Psalm 57:1-3
Oh my, she is growing so quickly. I can't believe how well she is eating. Sweet sweet girl. What a wonderful little blessing she is. :)
ReplyDeleteYou're right, she IS a wonderful little blessing, Hannah! I fall in love with her all over again every morning.
ReplyDeleteOh my goodness, that smile she makes in the middle of the video, when she look right at the camera. SO precious! and her eyes, it's like you can see in her soul. she's a special one, and you were meant to be her mama!
ReplyDelete