Letting Go

(Part 2 of 2)

Well, everybody's got a story to tell
And everybody's got a wound to be healed
I want to believe there's beauty here
'Cause oh I get so tired of holding on
I can't let go, I can't move on
I want to believe there's meaning here

How many times have you heard me cry out
"God please take this"?
How many times have you given me strength to
Just keep breathing?
Oh, I need you
God, I need you now.

At the end of that same weekend my closest friend and I wept over people and seasons that are now behind us. I won't go into a lot of detail here. I will say that following Jesus can be really hard. Loving people can be really hard. Loving people that seem to not be following or are outspokenly not following Jesus can be heart wrenchingly painful. It’s especially painful when you've witnessed them follow Jesus with their whole heart at one time. Or think you have. And now they don’t. So maybe they never did. As I fumed and fought and dug in my heels and held tenaciously to these people and seasons, God began to remind me of the story of the prodigal son. The imagery has been relayed well and often of an extravagantly loving Father running out to meet his son at the end of the story. 
But what of him letting his son leave at the beginning? That conjures images of him watching his son leave. No running from the Father here. Instead I saw that even the Father let the son go. That is a frustrating thing for this mind of mine to understand. That we choose. That our choices can cause pain. And that the Father lets us do it.

I know I’ve made a sharp turn away from the set of encyclopedias in post #1. It’s just that in a weird and sad and funny way, the pain of that experience went right to my heart and prepared me to see how much I hate letting go. I love change and new things, so moving on should come easily, right? But it doesn't. The truth is that I love people and I hate letting them go.

But here’s more that I know to be true:

God is a better Savior than I can ever be.

Obviously. God is a better everything than I can ever be. I know it but sometimes I behave like I don’t. He is the true Shepherd and His sheep hear His voice.  Part of me knows that I will probably always catch myself scanning groups of believers from time to time, hoping to see one certain face or another. Another part of me knows that I may never get the answers that I hope for, that maybe only God will ever know. I love the story of St. Augustine and his mother who prayed for him all through his wild and wayward years. But I also know that “there is a time to search and a time to give up”. And after much pain and many tears, it was time to let go. So I let go.

God was so good to have ended that season of pain with one of my favorite things - a wedding. And not just one wedding but two (because isn’t that just like God to give more than all we could ask or imagine).  I stood next to one incredible friend in Oklahoma one weekend and my sweet soul-sister in Colorado the next as they exchanged forever vows with their loves.  Even in the midst of loss there is a time to celebrate. And as I drove away from Colorado there was such a rush of freedom.

God is good.

He is the Father that I can never be to His children.

Father, thank You for being the Creator of seasons! Thank You for building up and for tearing down. Thank You that nothing established by You can be ruined by man and their plans. Thank You for not only being the one who saves but the one who sanctifies. Thank You for Your purposes that endure throughout all generations. Only You know the beginning and the end. The universe cannot contain You. Your thoughts and Your ways are higher, so much higher, than us or our imaginations. You are good and Your love endures forever.

My hope and prayer for anyone reading this is freedom. Real freedom. Found only in the grace and presence of a God who loves us so much that He has come to live among us. He is working all things out.

~~~~~

Letting Go

(Part 1 of 2)

The weekend began with the loss of a set of encyclopedias.

A set of encyclopedias is a lot of books. I mean, there's what...26 letters in the alphabet? Plus an index. So 27 books. You'd think it might be hard to lose 27 books. 

It’s not.

These encyclopedias were not just any encyclopedias. In a world before google, they were the answer to just about any question a kid could come up with. They were hours of play between two sisters imagining themselves in one of the many fashion periods that developed from the beginning of society to present day society. Pictures on those pages were circled and labeled with pencil according to what my sister and I decided belonged to whom that day. (There was fierce competition over a green, southern-belle type dress.)

They had an entire section on fairy tales. You know - those stories that tell the same story over and over again in a hundred different ways? Curse sets the stage, person + trial = the producing of (or revealing of) true character, good conquers, true love and eternal happiness to close. Made up stories - with that much truth in them - are just the best.

There was also the flag section. It had pictures of every national flag known to mankind at that time. Captions telling the stories behind the symbols chosen on each flag showed so much variety, so much originality, and yet so much in common between all these peoples all over the world. And there they were, laying side by side on a few pages that I could hold in my hands. So far I’ve only given some highlights of the “F” volume. 

It was my Favorite. 

;)

In the “B” book were birds of every color, size, and shape. I could learn about the anatomy and physiology of the ear and the eye in “E”. So many books, so much information. I even remember reading an article about hiccups. Hiccups?? That’s pretty necessary-for-life information right there! 

These encyclopedias were seemingly endless information at my fingertips. And yet something I could contain. Portals to other worlds. Marked up. Outlined. Corners folded. Made mine.

I have a two-year old niece. Hands down she is the best two year old currently walking the planet and it is absolutely amazing to rediscover the world through her eyes. One day she and I are with “Nana”(my mom) at my parent’s place. And so is a lizard. This lizard is caught, placed inside a plastic container with a clear lid, holes are poked, and it’s now ready for viewing. The only problem is Cora isn't ready to view. She wants to be though. So badly. Knees to a chair, her hands on the table, the lizard in the container on this same kitchen table, Cora leans in with curiosity. The lizard moves and Cora screams. Loudly. Her eyes immediately fill with tears and her face immediately wells up. I comfort her, she calms down, and then, like any self-respecting two-year old, she does it again. And again. Pretty soon the conflict between her curiosity and her fear was breaking my heart. Then I remember! This is my parent's place. This is the place with the loft, that has a bookshelf, that holds a set of encyclopedias, that has a specific book for “L”inside of which I knew I could find a lizard. The non-moving type. So I run upstairs to grab it. It’s not there. L is gone. And R. So no reptile section either. Every last lovely lettered book is gone. No big deal. My mom reorganizes things

....sometimes...

"Mom, where are the encyclopedias?" I'm not exactly asking nonchalantly. My mom can hear that extra decibel of worry in my voice.

"Oh honey, I gave them away." I screamed. Loudly. My eyes immediately filled with tears, and my face immediately welled up. 

Well. Not really. But inwardly I cringed and I wanted to have a Cora-like response in that moment.

My mom is an incredibly good person. She has qualities of compassion, mercy, and service. She is patient, gentle, and humble. And then there’s her quality of cleanliness that - when combined with the quality of generosity - means giving things away. Routinely. To Goodwill.

This meant for the next hour I was having phone conversations like this:
    
      What was said:                                       How it was said:

GW "Goodwill, how can I help you?"             (This is my job and I am a robot.)


Me "I'm looking for something that was        (Voice cracking)
accidentally donated to you guys. It's     
been in the family for over 20 years..
        

GW "Ok, what are you looking for?"                (I have a heart and I want to help you.)

Me "It's a set of encyclopedias."               (Sniff and other obvious noises of choking 

back tears)

GW "Encyclopedias?"                       

   ( ....  )

     

(I no longer have a heart/ I really might be a robot/Let me introduce you to the internet)

                                                

I might have genuinely confused a few Goodwill employees that day. After all those calls, as well as personal store searches, I had to come to grips with the fact that these encyclopedias were irretrievable now. And hopefully making some kid somewhere very happy.

It truly is so hard for me to convey through words on a screen how sad this whole thing made me. I cry whenever I think long enough about it. 

And it was only the beginning of that weekend.

continued on next post...