the art of letting go.

With white-knuckles we cling so tightly onto our own way—our dreams, our plans, our ideas of what is best; our choice-sin-delicacies, which quickly turn to gravel in our mouths even moments after we’ve obliged. 

Even the thought of lessening our grip is all but terrifying. We have lovingly nursed what we cling to for as long as we remember. There is understandable connection here.

But at what point do our tight-fists cause more pain than they prevent?

We defiantly shake our heads. Anything but this. Take anything but this. 

When will we realize that our idea of “best” is many measures below God’s idea of “acceptable”?

Do we want His acceptable will, His good will, or His perfect will?1

Did we forget the promise of our God, our God of exceedingly-abundantly-above, the God of plans eye-hath-not-seen and ear-hath-not-heard?2

We serve a God of abundance. Jesus came and lived a full life. A life full—of power and joy and extravagance—but also of pain and sorrow and persecution. 

Life in Christ necessitates both sides of this coin; happily, both sides can coexist. 

In the midst of our greatest sorrow, we can find joy in our Creator, who makes a way in the wilderness and thirst-slaking streams of Living Water in the desert3.

And we know this. 

It feels adulterous to admit that we don’t feel it as well as we know it. 

Our heads and hearts are separate. They don’t align.

Hence our desperate clawing at what we think will fill us. Our waste-places and wildernesses and deserts all plead for healing, for something, for anything.

And as sure as the earth dances around the sun each year, we return to our deeply-rutted and heavily-trodden methods of attempting satisfaction. Are we even willing to admit it—that we aren’t satisfied?

Jesus knows this tendency. He knows it oh-so-well. And He knows that He is the answer to it. His love is not undone when we stray from our first Love. With open-arms, He awaits our return. 

Oh, that My people would come to Me… let me slake their thirst, let me satisfy. Oh, that they would rejoice in Me!

Can you see the love in His heart towards you? Can you hear the longing in His voice?

Arise, my love, my beautiful one, and come away!4 

But there is a price. 

The price is letting go.

Letting go—of the flesh, and all of its ways and desires and demands. Letting go—of what we beg to fill us. Letting go—of the idols that we have crafted out of possessions, relationships, or all of the what-we-don’t-have’s.

Truly, truly, unless a grain of wheat falls and dies, it remains alone; for whoever would save his life will lose it; but whoever loses his life for my sake will save it.5

If you want to taste the abundant fullness of life that Jesus promised, you must let go. To live you must die. The paradox of paradoxes. And isn’t it beautiful?

Jesus called it Denial of Self. Paul counted all he had as loss for the sake of it. A.W. Tozer called it the Divine Conquest. It’s the art of letting go, and the most beautiful worship we can offer—surrender.6

At this point of surrender, at the point of counting it all as loss, we begin to really live. 

When we trade our ways for His ways, which are infinitely better, we taste and see that He is good.

When we open our white-knuckled fists and let go of what we’re holding onto, our hands are open to receive the blessings God has been waiting to give us.

And friend, more often than not, God’s plans are not what you would expect. 

They’re infinitely better.

So muster up all of the trust you have in Him. Remember how He’s taken care of you so far. Rest in the fact that He is working all things together for the good of those who love Him.

And slowly unfurl the fists into open-palmed surrender.

Finally, know that something better is coming.

Know that there is more.

Come… and be filled.

Let go… and find rest.

He holds you. You are safe here. Be still and know this.

May your joy be full and your peace abound.

Reflect and Respond

Adapted from A.W. Tozer’s The Pursuit of God7:

O God, I have tasted Your goodness, and it has both satisfied me and made me thirsty for more. I am painfully conscious of my need for further grace. I am ashamed of my lack of desire. O God, the Triune God, I want to want You; I long to be filled with longing; I thirst to be made more thirsty still. Show my Your glory, that I may know You. Begin in mercy a new work of love within me. Say to my soul, “Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away.” Then give me grace to rise and follow You up from this misty lowland where I have wandered so long. I surrender all. Come and make Your home within me. May I be a vessel of Your glory. In Jesus’ name. Amen.

Choose three of the passages below to read. Read slowly, asking the Holy Spirit to illuminate His Word to you, then respond to the following question.

·      Isaiah 55:1-3

·      Isaiah 55:8-12

·      Jeremiah 29:11

·      Romans 8:28

·      1 Corinthians 2:9

·      Ephesians 3:14-20

How do these verses encourage surrender? How do they underline that God’s way is truly the best way for my life?

1 Rom. 12:2

2 Eph. 3:20, 1 Cor. 2:9

3 Isa. 43:19, John 7:38

4 Song of Sol. 2:10

5 John 12:24, Luke 9:24

6 Luke 9:23, Phil. 3:7-8, Rom. 12:1

7 Tozer, A.W. The Pursuit of God. Christian Publications Inc., 1948.