Letting go of the suitcase

So here it is at last. I've gone digital. Driven by swollen fingers that no longer like to hold a pen for long periods, I'm attempting this online form of journaling. I'm encouraged by reading the blogs of my friends; this kind of community reflection can be inspiring. Don't know if I will inspire anyone. My main goal is to be a more faithful chronicler of the daily barrage of words that flood my head but never find their way to paper--or in this case, computer. Who knows, maybe this will be the beginning of a revolution in my life, a getting done of all the projects I long to do but don't have time, or make time, for.

I was telling God about this just this morning, pulling out my mental list of wishful to-dos that get pushed back by the necessary ones. So many desires living in the shadow of my responsibilities. I often feel that I must give up so much of who I really am in order to be who I am supposed to be. How does one balance job, home, kids, husband, friends, family, exercise, spiritual life...and still have time for hobbies and dreams?

I love all--okay, most--of the aspects of my daily life. But I am tired of lugging around my mental suitcase, filled with the lists I keep making and filing away for later. Those lists are heavy! But this morning as I mentioned this to God, He asked me why I'm lugging the suitcase around anyway. That's not what He wants for me. I was reminded of something that I heard on Sunday: the one and only secret to living a life of freedom in Christ is trust. Whatever I am in bondage over is what I am not trusting Him with. Ever the gentle prodder, God brought this to mind this morning.

Sometimes, for me at least, it's easier to trust God with the big things than the small ones. Maybe that's because I realize it's absurd of me to think I'm actually in charge of my future or my kids or my marriage. But the small things get me, because I want to control them. Especially time. I want to squeeze all these tasks into the smallest possible number of minutes to get as much as I possibly can done each day. And each day I fail in this. But why do I think I need time? As my dear friend Debbie reminded me, I don't need time, I need my God. My God can give me time, if that's what I need. But what He told me this morning is that I need to trust. I need to let go of all these small things and just rest in the moment. In the end, what matters most is how I have lived the moments God gives, and I want to live them with peace, joy, and rest. But I can't do that when my fists are clenched around the handle of my suitcase, now can I?