Admittedly, I’m not the world’s fastest reader. I genuinely enjoy reading (well, learning really), but can’t seem to plow through pages at even a fraction of the rate my rockstar grandma used to do (300+ books a year, I kid you not). More than a few (dozen) almost finished books grace the shelves of our bookcases, the tops of the nightstands and coffee tables and end tables, the insides of baskets and buckets around the house.
In January, I picked up on some buzz about a little book called Restless from this lady. With so many books almost completed, I usually enforce a strict no-buying-books policy upon myself, but this one felt extra important and ultra timely. So I made the purchase and dove into the pages. Just a few chapters in, I knew this was more than a book to plow through. More than mere words to be quickly read.
This was about something else, something bigger, greater, deeper that God was working in me. (In thousands of other women, too, it turns out.)
The premise is that your gifts, passions, places, relationships, and even suffering are not random. Instead, each of these threads weaves together to form the very things you were created to be and do.
The reading has been slow, but not because I don’t want to devour the truth; precisely because I do. At points I’ve had to set the book aside, hardly able to enter the depths of where I needed to go to do the hard work.
Journaling about painful moments from your childhood and why those moments hurt so much isn’t feel good kind of stuff.
But it is good stuff.
It is necessary stuff if we are to move forward into the fullness of what God has called us to.
Appropriately, Jennie starts the book with talk of surrender.
Over the past week, I was led to surrender something in which I’ve invested years of my life. It would have been easier to stay. It would have been way more natural to hang on.
And I tried.
I tried to loosen my grip without fully releasing every single finger. And I felt sick over it. I had a straight up tantrum over it, burying myself under the covers, wallowing in hurt, stuck in a place of fear of what it would be for me to walk away. But the fear and the ickiness were all because I was still trying to control while He was whispering, “Let it go, daughter. Let ALL of it go.”
Here’s the thing, friends: this surrender was not of something sinful or unhealthy. There was nothing evil about the thing I was asked to give up. But as I quieted my heart to hear the voice of the Lord, I knew I had to let go of a good thing to move forward towards the best things.
The scary part is that I do not know what is next. I don’t have some grand plan or even a clear vision of the great thing He longs to do in and through my life. But you know what? That’s not my job. My job is to obey. His job is to provide everything else.
Have you offered this prayer to the Lord lately?
In journaling through the book and uncovering the threads of my life, I have zero doubt that God intends to use every good and every hard thing for glory. Zero. I have zero doubt that He has designed my story specifically for His glory, for such a time as this.
The when and how the threads will form the tapestry, I do not know.
But today, I’m grateful to serve a God that loves deeply and does not act in random; a God that tenderly urges me to surrender a good thing for the best things.