As I step outside, I am rendered momentarily blind by the dazzling light, reflected off of the fresh snow. The sky so stunningly blue, I can barely look at it. I quickly grab my shades off of my head (where they act as a headband for my unruly mop of hair) and plunk them on my nose, instantly releasing a sigh of relief.
Oh, glorious sunshine. Spring in the North! I don't know that the sun is ever as bright, anywhere else on earth.
Even that spring sunshine is barely making a dent in the bone-deep weariness that has overtaken me. Winter has been long. By Halloween, we had cold and snow. Then more and more and more snow. Then, we had a gorgeous February, the world was alive with hope of the end. But it was a false, temporal hope. March roared in like a lion and he keeps rearing his ugly head.
Yesterday was very emotional, something shattered my dented hope, and I reacted with volatile anger, rather than grace. I am defeated and ashamed. I feel powerless in my situation and have lost my perspective. But these are just feelings. Feelings that are temporary. My hope is not in the temporal, but in the eternal. There is a pinhole in the shroud of my weariness, and through it I can glimpse hope. Glorious hope. Redemption, forgiveness, the relinquishing of my burdens to one far better equipped to carry them. And he wants to. Carry my burdens, I mean. He tells me so, over and over again. I can be thick-headed at times. (Usually.) But I can hear him still. "Let me carry that for you. My shoulders are strong. Come on, give it up! What are you going to do with that garbage, it is weighing you down. You can't live in my freedom, rest in my grace, rise on my wings while carrying that stuff. My daughter! Give me your worries, your shame, your fear. Let me release you of their shackles so you can get on with the important stuff. Living out my love. Sharing of grace. Peaceful rest. Victorious, fearless, abundant life!"
I am trying to let go. Trying to breath deeply, release the tight pain in my face and neck and shoulders. I am trying so hard!
That isn't how it works though, is it. It isn't in the trying. Striving is just another way of hanging on. Doing it myself...
It is in surrender.
So I need to learn to surrender. What does that look like? I can't envision it right now. Oh God, show me!
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