On Letting Go
I recently described my current relationship with God as a game of freeze tag.
He’s “it,” and I’m running.
Because if I allow Him to catch me, I’m afraid I’ll be stuck somewhere my flesh doesn’t want to be, even though it’s something my soul longs for. He is chasing me with living water to quench my dry and weary heart, and I’m too stubborn, sinful, and downright disobedient to rest in His embrace.
He’s also chasing me with a proposition I’m not ready—physically, emotionally, nor spiritually—to consider: motherhood.
Motherhood.
Something that has been on my heart since we bought the house and checked off that last box leading up to the “Have a Kid” step on our metaphorical Life Plan.
But something that brings with it so many other things to think about.
Will I work? I have a really wonderful ministry opportunity at the college. I love writing centers and want to make a career in academia. I’m in a good place, career-wise. I hold a master’s degree and really want to use it. I really love work. I really love my job.
Will I stay home? Financially, it would probably make the most sense. Logistically, it would probably make the most sense. Ministry starts in the home, and my child(ren) should be my main mission field. I can go back to work when the kids are in school. My career wouldn’t necessarily be over. It might have to be different, but it definitely wouldn’t be over.
If I stay at home, would we move closer to Andrew’s job? We moved to Annapolis for my job, and I definitely have the better commute. But we just bought a house. Would we sell and move twenty minutes west? Leave the house we’re currently painstakingly renovating? Will Andrew be angry that he has a 40 minute commute when it could be 20?
So many things. And I’m not even pregnant. I’m not allowed to be pregnant until a month after my surgery that I have to have again this month. (You can read more here about my experience with this surgery last year.) So I really shouldn’t be thinking about these things.
But I’m a woman with anxiety, so worrying about the future is what I do. Unfortunately.
The answer, really, is simple: let God catch me. But for some reason, I’m just not ready to submit. I’m not ready to truly consider the spiritual implications of my decisions. I’m not ready to heed this calling.
But are we ever really ready for motherhood? Do plans ever really work out perfectly? I planned for our first dog to snuggle with our first baby, and that definitely isn’t going to happen. I planned for our house to be move-in ready by mid-July, and that definitely isn’t going to happen. I didn’t plan to need surgery again, but here I am.
Here I am.
Running from God, a ledge from which I would fall into the bliss of exciting obedience—the result of just letting go. Letting Him guide me and my decisions. Letting Him have the control. Trusting His plans and His peace—His simplicity within life’s complexities.
Maybe soon I’ll let go. Or maybe it’ll take more time.
Until then (and for always), I hope I will trust the One who knows.
Are you running from God or something He’s put on your heart? Or have you had a similar experience but you’ve made it to the point where you just let go? Tell me about it—I know I can’t be the only one.
- Going Home - July 1, 2020
- Sufficient to Sustain - December 4, 2019
- Flying Solo - June 5, 2019
From what you write, I visualize something a little different. I envision God gently waiting for you to come sit in his Abba-Father lap and pour out these fears and what-ifs to Him. I think in some ways, it would be easier if He chased us down, but I see him allowing you to be exhausted, enough, curious enough, and perhaps even broken enough to rest in His arms, no matter what His answers are. Uncertainty and transition times are frustrating for we who future trip. The longer I live, I see my race as more often than not, one to His arms for comfort and grace as I wait on Him to do or allow that which I cannot control, anyway.
I’ll be cheering you on from the Pacific Northwest as you decide when to let go. xo
Oh, Natalie, I read your words and I think you have so much to look forward to. But projecting is almost always fear-based (Future Events Appear Real) and with all the choices/decisions you’ll be making, it’s no wonder you go there. I’m going to go back and read about your surgery, but I want to first thank you for sharing. You really grabbed me from the first few sentences, because that’s me on any given day.
And just one more thing. Your red hair is outrageously beautiful. Out of three daughters, we’ve had a brunette, a blonde and the youngest, delightfully, a red head. You wear it well! Best wishes/prayers with your pending procedure, and your future. Methinks our writing of these challenging essays bring such clarity! God bless.
This is such a great article, so much to which I can relate. I picture you being like the mom in the Time Quintet: uber professional yet uber present. You’ll be great, and it will look wildly different than the plan😃