Yesterday I wrote about finding Jesus in the ordinary, and seeking God as I follow the lights I can see. Last night as one of my children led us in our weekly family advent celebration, she asked us all to think of something we were sorry for and to ask for forgiveness and also strength not to do it again this week.
I knew straight away what I was sorry for. I know that although I have trusted God so much with so many things this year, I am still trying to keep a few things within my hands. There’s something in me of the small child who declares that they haven’t got a sweetie in their hand, even whilst you can see that they are holding something very, very tightly.
As I write this blog I am aware that these last few months have been much more positive and I know that I have moved a long way, but I know that my hand is behind my back, and sometimes I pretend, even to myself, that it’s empty. But it’s not.
Earlier in the year I used the analogy of tandem sky diving, and the trust involved in the instructor. I think I have been harnessed on to God on the ground, we’re up in the plane and he’s now asking me to let go of everything else and jump out empty handed. No looking back, no safety of my own making, I don’t even have my own parachute. He is going to be in control of it all.
And that scares me. Real life sky diving didn’t. I was so excited about what would happen when we fell out of the plane that I had no hesitation. I don’t know why I think that fully trusting God will be some kind of second best option, rather than life in the richest sense possible.
I think it’s because I don’t understand what that is.
But this is what He has promised me,
“I came so they can have real and eternal life, more and better life than they ever dreamed of.” John 10 verse 10
I believe that’s true. I’m just a bit frightened. So will you keep me in your prayers as I uncurl my fingers from around the fragments of the past which I hold in my hands? Jagged fragments which actually cut my skin, and hurt, but I have grown so used to them that letting them go feels very difficult.
I want to let go. I want to jump out of the plane knowing that I am totally safe, even if I still feel frightened. I’m reminded that Jesus let go of everything and trusted the Father completely when He came as a baby.
I’ll let you know how I get on.