I felt content with life, but my hands weren't completely open to God. No, as the song played and I hid my head in the couch, He showed me what I was holding onto.
The list was longer than I wanted to admit. Far longer.
For starters, I'm a big one for questions. I like to know why. I like to understand.
Most of the time, that's helped me learn - new skills, a new job, a new culture.
Sometimes, however, I bring that question to God with the unspoken idea that He is obligated to give me an answer.
See, when I came back from Senegal, I tossed pretty much everything from those two years in a metaphorical box - the memories, the lessons, the questions - and put the box on a shelf. The future called for my attention and I had neither the time nor mental energy to sort through the box. So it sat there.
Sooner or later, as was bound to happen, that box started bugging me. A good friend and mentor, Jackie, offered to help me unpack that box, to go through a debrief of sorts with me if I thought that would be helpful. I said yes. She gave me some resources beforehand and I started slowly working my way through them.
What was I hoping to get out of it? I guess, more than anything, I wanted those nagging Whys laid to rest. To come out the other side with a clear picture of God's purpose for that part of my life.
And then one evening, He stopped me short with a song and I had to rethink everything.
There's no doubt it's time to unpack the box.
And though I want resolution and answers and an understanding of His purpose in it all, I realize now this is no right I can hold onto.
Open hands.
Giving it all to Him means I may never get what I've hoped or prayed for.
I may never understand - this side of heaven - exactly why He chose to lead me to Senegal, only to bring me back after two short years. He may never give me that missing puzzle piece.
Am I okay with that? Truly?
If I'm not, I'm still holding onto something.
Surrender isn't an act we put on to convince God to be our genie in a bottle. "Your will be done" isn't some magical phrase we can tack onto a prayer to get what we want.
No, open hands means just that...no holding onto anything.
It feels like an incredibly scary, vulnerable, empty place to be. And it is - unless we have a greater joy and security.
Have I ever regretted giving something to the Lord, even if it was excruciating? I asked myself.
Never! On the contrary, anything I have given up has only brought me closer to Him. I knew it would be the same this time, too.
Still, I expected emptiness on the other side of that letting go - especially for things I'd held onto for far longer than just my questions about coming back to the States. But it wasn't there.
There was a freedom, a lightness, a peace in my heart. What I thought was somehow giving me security had actually been weighing me down and I didn't even know it.
Knowing Him is the greatest joy I can have, worth so much more than anything I might be tempted to clench my hands around.
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