Letting Go

 This year I chose to devote some time focused on the Lent season leading up to Easter.  I honestly couldn't recall the last time I spent time focused on Lent and had to consider what it is and what it meant to me.   I understood it to be the time frame representing the 40 days that Jesus spent wandering in the wilderness before he began his public ministry.  I have heard over the years from friends choosing to give up or abstain from something in their lives to help them better focus and grow in their walk with the Lord.  I have done something similar at several points in my life over the years, but nothing really significant in terms of giving something up that wasn't material or tangible.  This year is different in one way in particular, the loss of my Mom in January.  I am coming up to a lot of first's without her, including Easter.  Easter holds a really special place in my life because it was during the Easter season in 1979 that I accepted Jesus into my heart and became a Christian.  I don't remember all of the details of that moment, but I do remember how I felt like I was truly lacking something, and that only Jesus could fill it.  I look back on that season in my life, and my first  memories are of how my parents and some of the most loving, caring, encouraging, mentoring people in my life helped me figure out who Jesus was and how much He really did love me.  I am so thankful for the people who surrounded me and became like family to me, helping me to understand and come to love the Word of God, learning how to talk with God about anything, and how it would influence my personal walk with God and ultimately help my faith continue to grow.  I found myself approaching Lent this year, while still raw from the loss of my Mom, and reflecting back on my transformation to becoming a Christ follower at a very young age, simply wanting a new focus to keep me moving forward.  I felt right away in my heart, in my soul, I needed to simply let go.  Not tangible, not anything I could experience with my human senses, but something beyond my humanity.  We are all reluctant to admit most of our lives, that we really don't want the exact same thing as everyone else.  It's easy to get caught up in the cultural norms and expectations, what society says is 'acceptable', or means you have reached the 'success' you truly were meant for or should be striving for.  So, what I am learning often sets some of us apart is the choice to let go.  What did this mean for me?  I had one thing in particular at the top of my list, and set a goal for myself to make it happen.  To cap off Lent and Easter season this year, I chose to close my social media account.  Leading up to that choice, I set a daily challenge for myself to share a post every day about Grace.  This wasn't just for me but for anyone, to put a positive and encouraging  close on something that I believe was simply becoming far more detrimental than beneficial to my life.  I'm not saying I am done with social media forever, but for the time being it's something I need to let go of.  

The next piece of my 'Let go' was my grip, specifically the 'control' I thought I had in my life, everything and everyone in it.  I like order, control, an organized plan, and if it's not then I can become  unhinged very quickly.  This is only exacerbated  by the fact that I am currently in that blissful season of life many women experience upon entering their 50's and approaching the 'm' word......menopause.  I thought grief made things worse, well menopause just cranked it up all the more.  So, it became very clear to me the last few years as I found myself in moments of absolute frenzy, and ultimately having to stop and apologize to anyone caught in my path - my husband Ryan, more than anyone else! - something needed to change.  I was gripping with  white knuckles more often than not, and it was wearing me out emotionally, physically, mentally and spiritually.   A dear friend reminded me recently to consider a new perspective in my approach to resolving a problem in my life:  ask a question instead of spouting an expectation.  It's easy for me to rattle off a list of pro's and con's, determine how to approach a problem and ultimately fix it.  I needed a gentle, honest reminder to take a step back, take a deep breath, pray, and consider there could be a better way.  This piece of the 'Let go', my grip, is improving but it is a constant process for me.  I am as human as the next person, and I will readily admit there are moments I don't like what's happening and that God isn't doing more to fix a given situation.  But isn't that part of the process?  Isn't that the way it is intended to be?  How do we move forward one or two steps more, if we don't go through it so we can learn from it and be stronger because of it?  

The final piece of my 'Let go' is my expectation of God.  Like any child, I grew up believing if I asked God for it, He would give it to me.  At some point I learned that wasn't the case in the way I understood it of course.  In time, I would learn that God has my absolute best in mind and wants to give me everything I ask for, as it aligns with His good and perfect will for my life.  So, my hope and prayer as I continue to work through my 'Let go...' is that I find the balance, the breath, the focus intended for me according to His abundant purpose and plan.  

'You make known to me the path of life; in your presence there is fullness of joy; at your right hand are pleasures forevermore.' Psalm 16:11