Sitting outside in the dark, looking up at the stars I wondered when this foreboding would end. For weeks, months really, I have been stewing over a situation at home. Mulling it over. Trying to figure it out. All while I knew there really wasn't anything I could do about it. It was just eating at me. Then, it finally occurred to me to pray about it; to really pray about it.
I don't understand why I wait so long to take things that concern me the most to God and let Him help me sort them out. I don't understand why it always takes me so long to come to my senses. I don't know why I want to hang on to the sadness, worry, grief, anxiety, fear for so long like a small child clutching her security blanket before I relinquish my hold on it and surrender it to Him. Because as soon as I do, as soon as I allow Him access to those areas of my life, I am suddenly set free from those very things. Almost literally a weight is lifted off me and I can see clearly now the rain is gone. (Sorry, that just slipped out, though there are probably few that read this blog that have ever even heard that song. *AHEM!* Now get serious. This is a serious post.)
So late last night every time I felt those thoughts moving in, every time I felt those worries and fears rising up in me I reminded myself I had given those things to God. I had laid those things at the foot of the cross and I didn't have to think about them anymore, because God was taking care of them. He knows all about it and can handle it a lot better than I could ever think or imagine. Besides, there isn't anything I could do about them anyway, that's the whole point of surrendering them to God.
Today is the first time in months I have felt so at peace with my life. And I wonder, again, why does it take me so long to give it to God?