You know, for the longest time I had this really odd habit. When something hard or bad was happening, I believed my life should stop. Including my goals, desires, and random interests. Even, laughter. Like, nothing else should matter and any current living should be relocated to the back burner.
Or, clean off the stove entirely.
Can you relate? If so, like Peter Cetera croons, it’s a hard habit to break.
Yet, break it we must!
Habits Are Made to be Broken
I don’t know why this was so. Maybe I didn’t feel important enough to invest in? Or, that it was *right* to keep living when bad was happening? It just felt like a reckless move. Mostly though, I think it’s because those hard happenings just have a way of sucking the living right out of me… sticking me right in neutral, while I try to trouble shoot ways out of the latest troubles.
As always, though, the first step towards change is to finally see that which needs changing. Notice it for what it is. Name it. Which, in this case, was simply a distraction and temptation to sideline me. Render me useless. Stop any forward movement, or even take me backward. Steal what I’ve already attained by grace, gifting, or plain, old grit.
And now that I finally do realize all this, I’m onto step two of the process. Not that I’m entirely sure what that’s supposed to look like. I just feel down to dive deep into these waters. Plus, maybe finally brave enough to cling to the life vest of Truth on my way down. And stay free enough to lay my hands back upon the dry ground I’ve already been given, trusting in the Only One that has the power and goodness to change anything, so that I may finally rest and live like a redeemed daughter of The King.
Care to join me? Wanna grab hold of something real and true? Wanna leave that life of fear and shame and fall into the Arms of True Love?? Even if that takes you to the deep end?
I feel like I’ve been waiting for this moment my whole life.
So Then, Trust we Must
Yet, those questions I’ve posed can’t be glossed over. Because they’re not just feel good sentiments to nod *Amen* to. Know why?
Do you remember those trust fall exercises? Where you’re supposed to fall backwards into the arms of someone standing behind you. Well, you wouldn’t want an enemy to stand behind you. Neither, a madman. You likely wouldn’t want the class clown, a child, or anyone smaller than you, either. My hubs certainly wouldn’t trust me to catch him since he’s a solid foot taller, plus nearly a hundred pounds heavier. It’s called a trust fall for a reason. You must trust in order to fall!
And yet, it feels extremely vulnerable to fall, expecting that the one behind will, in deed, catch you. You wanna know what else? Even if that Someone is Jesus, it can still feel extremely risky to fall back, casting not only our cares upon Him, but our whole selves.
If we’re at all honest, we can admit this. I think it’s a true rarity among believers, actually, even while we’ll readily claim that we’re *surrendered* and saved.
Are we, though? Completely surrended, I mean. Even though it should be the easiest thing ever since our whole self was created through and for Him.
So why don’t we truly fall?
It really all comes down to trust. Do we trust Him to do what we can’t? Do we trust Him to do what we can, even? Do we trust Him with our greatest treasures, deepest desires, and life’s longings? Do we trust Him with our very lives? Do we trust it’s gonna end in a way to leave us satisfied.
Spoiler alert: It most likely won’t.
Fear or Fall
Which is why my true answer to those questions is… I don’t trust Him. Not deep down. Or, maybe I do but I don’t feel like I do. I really don’t know. All I know is that with every hard, fear producing, all-consuming latest trouble… or, even every seemingly small, slightly something bad that could be something worse later, or what-if, or suppose this and that happens next… and I feel like I am straight up gut-punched or want to head straight for the hills, or at least to my bed to ponder and wonder and try to fix and make better.
And then look forward in and through all that fear. Into that glass half-empty. With some prophetic-like, doomsday dread and an only-death-can-come-from-this mentality.
Instead of living the life that’s right in front of me. The only moment I really have. The Now! Falling into the arms that were stretched out on a cross, then scarred and held death for me so that I don’t ever have to.
And, knowing this, I don’t ever have to fear the now. That’s the odd part. I don’t have to fear death. Fear life. Fear living. Fear living in the shadows of death that often haunt and lie and wreak havoc on my days.
I really do have a choice. And you do too, if this sounds at all like you.
But, you know… it really is a bold and risky move to stare into the face of something scary and place it into the hands of someone else. Unless, that is, you are placing it into the hands of Someone Who already faced the final death, carrying in His own hands the weapon that killed Him, then overcame the very grave that determined to bury Him.
Bury us all.
Trust Fall of All
And in writing this out, I’m starting to see the power to overcome. It’s by our testimony and in our Savior. By His blood. In His very life and Spirit residing in the hearts and souls of His very own.
And now this second step seems more clear. Within reach. Labeled. It’s simply a surrender. The trust fall of all trust falls. The step that must be taken within the every day that comes our way, come what may, bringing with it the temptation to fear some unknown outcome. Resting each one that comes into the arms that hold it all because they held up The Only One that died for all.
The very arms that continue to hold all things together.
So now the only question is: Jesus, will you catch me if I fall? Are you enough for me through it all? Can you hold me and carry me through the now and into what’s next? Will I still love you and not let you down even when I don’t like the outcome? Will I see your goodness in the land of the living? Will I know you’re always good when, in spite of the fear, I keep on truly living? When suffering and sadness and brokenness break me wide apart, will you still be enough to calm my heart?
I pray so, so I’ll fall. Surrender to You, all. All of me and mine. All of my desires, dreams, and dreads. Into Your purpose and arms that know and hold and are always being held out, waiting for the moment when, deeper still, I will always fall…
While grabbing hold of just enough faith to know You’re faithful to the end and will always catch me.