Prying open that white-knuckled grip

I think since we moved and totally uprooted, I feel exposed -- wondering what it is I'm supposed to be making of myself + my life.

I know, this sounds way melodramatic but I promise I don't mean it to be...it's really just the best way I know to say exactly how I feel.

Recently it occurred to me that I've had a bit of a death grip on my work, because it's familiar amidst all that is new, and because part of me believes that I can use it to work out all of my problems right now.  And the rest of my fears are made up of what will happen to me if I don't do that successfully.

Which is pretty terrifying, if you think about it.

So I realized, a few days ago, I probably needed to call my own time-out.  After all, I have been so close to the metal that I could hardly even see what I was doing anymore, and I had been approaching everything like my hair was on fire.  Meaning I would start one task and end up trying to do about sixteen.  And completing zero.

This past week, I've been in time out, and I'm so glad because in the relative stillness I've managed to sense the tug toward grace that I so badly need.  God in his infinite grace has shown me, for the millionth billionth time, that it isn't up to me to create my purpose because he has already given me a purpose, and that is to live, in peace, knowing his love for me.

And yet.  I feel the withdrawal.  I want to get right back to justifying my existence, by Instagramming strategically or marketing myself better or clarifying my message or landing a dream project.  Rationally, I know it can't be done, and truthfully, I am weary from trying.  I want to press in, and enjoy this space close by his side, knowing that it really will all be just fine.  

I'm in between, I'm in process.  I'm okay with the process, and I'm terribly impatient with it.  I know the importance of learning how to loose my controlling grip, and yet to actually release those muscles takes a great deal of undoing.  It takes time.

So that is where I am, these days -- it's where I expect I'll be for a little while still.  When this passes, I will still return here one day, hopefully having learned from this time on the course.

And if I can not miss that opportunity to grow a little deeper in trust, then I will be content.  Tomorrow is another day to not miss the opportunity.

 

 

 

Mallory OvertonComment