Sometimes we believe it’s all up to us.
Perhaps we haven’t bought off on this thinking overtly, but it’s in there. And it leaks out every which way. This subtle pressure to make the world turn.
Solving the problem. Making others happy. Controlling an outcome. Overworking ourselves. Overcommitting ourselves. Fretting. It’s all up to me.
Here’s a powerful thought:
“Resigning as “Master of the Universe” was a relief and a weight off my shoulders. The world can actually revolve without me. Now I can concentrate on the people around me. Instead of doing all the talking, I can do more listening. Instead of giving orders, I can ask for other people’s opinions on how things should be done. Well, God, it’s all Yours. Isn’t that a simple way to handle a difficult problem? If I can’t handle it, God can, if I just ask.”*
When we turn the God-stuff over to God, we are creating space in our lives for the us-stuff. Stuff like rolling up our sleeves and participating in life.
When was the last time you got some life under your nails? Painted. Cooked. Gardened. Sewed. Glued. Sanded. Designed. Drew. Mixed. I am so hungry for this kind of living–the freedom to enjoy instead of agonize.
I have a friend who has a home brewery.
I have a friend who makes the most gorgeous collages in a journal.
I have a friend who tends a square foot garden right in the middle of the city.
I have a friend who makes felt flower hair clips for her daughters.
I have a friend who writes on a blog.
I have a friend who takes full-of-life pictures.
This isn’t about doing more. No, not at all. This is about letting go of some things that we need to let go of so we have space to be more gloriously human. We have more capacity to be in the gray fray of life and not just in the safety of black and white.
Here’s my theory: it’s far safer to feel like we’re in control. It’s far safer to believe we are the ones calling the shots. It’s far safer to believe we are God. It’s far safer to live at a ridiculous pace. It’s far safer to believe we are right. But it’s also very stressful. Mainly because we were never really meant to be God.
It’s vulnerable and scary to believe that it’s not all up to us, to hit up against our own perfectionism, to be human.
Today, on this Sunday, let’s practice Sabbath rest by turning the God-stuff over to God and focusing on what it means to be fully human. Alive and awake and wild with possibilities. Life under our nails. Allowing space for imperfection.
Once we were paralyzed with the weight of figuring it all out. Now that we’ve said – Well, God, it’s all Yours – we are freed.
