White-Knuckling This Life

Hi. God has been stirring things up and I feel the need to write.

Many, many moons ago I bought the book Anything by Jennie Allen. I read the prologue where the author warned me that this book would change my life by guiding me through telling God I'm willing to give him anything. I've been around long enough to know to be careful what you wish for and I was terrified by that warning. Like a mature adult, I threw the book off the couch like a hot potato and said, "Uh-uh. Nope. I can't handle this right now."

For almost six months, it has stayed by the couch, staring at me, taunting me. Finally, this month I decided I was ready. I felt like Kevin McAllister in Home Alone. I wanted to go outside and yell, "I'm not afraid anymore! I said! I'm not afraid anymore! DO YOU HEAR ME?! I'M NOT AFRAID ANYMORE!" And with that, I began to read...and it has felt like a marathon to get through each & every chapter. I'm exhausted, but invigorated. And still scared.

I've recently realized that I'm extremely terrified of losing comfort in my life. I'm always illogically worried that I will lose my job, my house, my husband, that water might stop coming out of the tap, that the power will go off forever, that Yellowstone will go and we will live in a dark, chaotic world... I think about this kind of stuff all. the. time.

I fear having to actually survive this life, instead of just living it. My #1 goal has become comfort and the avoidance of suffering at all costs. I've convinced myself that if something creates suffering, it can't be from God. That's why the adoption process has been so hard and so full of doubt. This book has reminded me that I've put this desire for comfort at the top of my priority list. I probably don't need to tell you that that's not a good thing.

Telling God you will do anything is a terrifying prayer. You look at people in the Bible who were willing to do anything for God and their lives were not comfortable and were certainly not devoid of suffering. Was I even capable of praying that prayer? I wasn't sure, and I had to take a week off before reading Part 2 of the book, the part about actually saying those words.

One night I decided to cowboy up and get it over with. She talked of her own experience, part of which was offering her brand new house up to God, telling him he could have it; they were willing to sell it and move to Africa if it's what he wanted. I started crying and couldn't stop. Not my house. I love my house. He can't have my house. The more I read (and cried), the more I realized how toddler-esque I was acting. In the grand scheme of heaven, does my house really matter? Absolutely not. If he wants my house, and it will bring him glory to take it, why wouldn't I be willing to trust him with it? I started to ugly-cry and told him he could have it if he really wanted it. And just as she said in the book, I felt a clear answer. I felt God thank me for offering but he told me that he didn't want my house. I need my house to provide a safe place for my adopted children to live and be loved. He reminded me that he hand-picked this house for us and that, right now, adoption is what my anything looks like. How our adoption story will play out is still to be seen, but I trust him.

I still have a few more chapters to read but it has certainly shifted how I think about my life and has left me with a lot to ponder. My biggest take-aways have been:

This life is short and heaven is right around the corner. One of the sentences in the book that has stuck in my mind is about getting to heaven out-of-breath from living this life to the fullest of God's glory.

All suffering is temporary. It may even kill me, but then it would be over.

God's focus isn't on my personality or coddling me because I'm scared of a lot of things. He picked me to adopt, regardless of my fears and insecurities because it's not about me. The whole point is that I can't do anything on my own, and that's where God's glory can really shine.

As the book says, all I can do is let it all go and allow him to pry my hands off of my life so I can instead cling to him and hold on for the ride.

Pauline Baynes’s illustrations for C.S. Lewis, The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe,
HarperCollins, 1991