Surrendering the Vision

Forgive me dear readers for my lack these days. I am not usually one to be without words. I am writing, but haphazardly in my journal with scattered thoughts, broken sentences and lots of ellipsises (…)

I HAVE been preoccupied. I have been walking along grief’s highway. I have been in a deep, dull, cold cave for weeks. Honestly, putting one foot in front of another has been my goal each day. I lose myself in books and tea and chocolate and simply do not want to interact with the world.

I recognize the symptoms of depression but I refuse to be depressed. I also see the aftermath of sorrow. It deflates you somehow. I don’t want to be sad. I realize that my brother died a year ago, my mother died nine months ago and my uncle died two weeks ago. I will add that my dad died eleven years ago and I’m still not over that. I gather that loss can be cumulative and, well, I think it adds up to a normal response…that just caught up to my busy running feet…

In the midst of this, I am experiencing the slow steady need to surrender my pain, my fears, my worries, my need to control my world.

Surrender.

I am the kid who NEVER GIVES UP!

I literally hiked up Mt Whitney, not quite to the top, but 14,000+ feet with altitude sickness and refused to turn back. I was blind, out of my mind and dehydrated and could barely walk but I would not throw in the towel.

The stubbornness is deep in my core and any kind of ‘surrender’ looks like I wasn’t good enough, or I was lazy, or a failure.

The idea of ‘letting go’ is foreign to me. I cannot grasp it without a great deal of struggle. Like all out wrestling. Haha….

Of late, my world doesn’t look the way I thought it would at this juncture. The ‘death of a vision’??

I think I have shared before, that when my husband and I moved out to Louisiana to help my mother, I had some lofty ideas about building a house, having a little farm, growing produce and raising animals. Things didn’t exactly go as planned.

In the course of my mama’s dementia and eventual passing, hopes and dreams were dashed to pieces multiple times. As a result of this, I clung to every tangible item I could, to keep my mental health. The physical things that belonged to my parents and brother became so valuable. I clung.

Releasing my death grip on the stuff has come little by little, bit by bit. I think I looked at the same things a hundred times before I was able to let go.

A few days ago…I said goodbye to a great beautiful giant of a tree. This tree was damaged and dying from the past hurricane. It had limbs that hung precariously over our house. It was time. Still…

I watched as she fell and it was if she heaved a great breath out. It was soundless. It surprised me how quiet and still it was when she fell. I breathed out as well. And I felt freedom.

Shackles fell from my feet.

I know that perhaps it’s all symbolic and only I can see and hear like this, but truly the release of this tree, letting her go, represents the utmost of rest for my spirit as I allow the change that surely is coming. What I thought was a death of a vision is really a surrender of the old and the birth of the new…

Today, I walked in our woods, and felt the winds shifting. There was a fresh, new vision forming in my mind’s eye. I don’t know what it looks like, but each day brings a new glimpse of the big picture.

“The heart of man plans his way, but the Lord directs his steps and makes them sure.”

Proverbs 16:9

I know that my Father God is near to me. His Son, Jesus, holds my hand. His Spirit guides me and fills me with strength. I lift my voice in song and raise my hands in praise as I begin to see and behold with new eyes. Open the eyes of my heart dear Lord, increase my understanding. How I love You and delight to draw near to You! Thank You for walking with me through the darkness. Thank You for wrapping me in Your arms when I cannot speak or do or even think. You are the Faithful One in whom I place all my trust!

Your words. Your way. Your time.