So the other day while on a morning run I considered these words that were swirling around in my mind:
"It's not about the . . . "
Several thoughts surrounded the water of my heart where I often come with a wrestling.
The potential job . . .
The current job . . .
The size of our family . . .
The book . . .
I walked into the water and reached in deep, retrieving sand washed stones.
. . . The fears . . .
. . . The opinions of others . . .
. . . The risk . . .
. . . The potential flop . . .
. . . The experience and the lack thereof . . .
Ever deeper I walked and reached for more.
. . . The surrender . . .
. . . The character . . .
I marveled at all of this and considered how they are indeed stones in my life. Hard and firm these thoughts encompass my days. I've built a moat around them, anxiously spent my time focused on them.
And these that have been the beneficiary of my attention are indeed what keeps me ever anxious of the impending tumble. I layer these stones, one on top of another, and all the while I remain unsettled because I can't hold them up and all together.
Stones can't be controlled. They can get swept up in a flood current or shaken by a storm.
Every day is like a fault line beneath my feet and I never know when life will suddenly quake. I worry I won't have the stones all together, or that they all will come crashing down.
One stone stands out to me: Character. I consider how I focus so much time and attention here -- on mindfully trying to craft and create mine, and even The Boy-Man's. I say we're in the character-building business. And though these words have some semblance of truth, the lens through which I look suddenly appears different.
Then I consider another: Surrender. I've tried and tried, and tried some more. With so much focus on surrender I realize that I'm actually doing the very opposite. I want to know what it looks like and so I analyze and contemplate when really it's very simple -- it's a letting go, a turning away from, a shifting of attention.
I've been so wrapped up in this creating and crafting and controlling of every thing in my life for fear of every possible outcome. And really . . .
It's the process that matters most.
I hear this and say this and truthfully, so much of me believes it. But you only know what you know and suddenly my perspective is widened.
Character isn't my job. It's His. He is doing the character work. He is making all things come together.
And surrender begins with a choice. A willingness. He will show me the way as I simply shift my gaze on Him.
I want to gather these stones up and build an altar with them . . . instead of seeing them as problems to be solved, accomplishments and success to achieve -- a wall to be built and admired.
I want to gather them up. Bend low and scoop up every one.
I want to trust He will give me eyes to see the ones hidden and tucked in the weeds.
It's all about Him. I'm really starting to get it now.