Let Go. Be Still.
Imagine: your fingers are white-knuckling the edge of a cliff; you stare up at the sky, you picture the water and craggy outcroppings below and say you won’t let go. Without the strength to pull yourself onto solid ground, you wait, your hands growing tired and your heart dreaming of the feeling of new grass beneath your feet.
Chances are, you can relate to this, not in a literal sense (if so, you must share), but rather, the thing you are grasping so tightly might be an idea, relationship, or a job, and the thing you are dreaming of while you hang in the air is something else entirely.
Craving security is natural, it is something that has been built into our essence from the moment we were given the breath of life. The tragedy of the story is most people navigate life with a warped sense of security, clinging hard and fast to the things they believe will bring safety and protection. We crave security as a byproduct of our design for intimacy with Jesus, the one who created us, the only one who can truly keep us safe.
So why do we keep holding onto other things? Because simple things can be deceptively difficult. Consider this: Let go. Be still. Two basic commands we see over and over in scripture. So short and simple, but so incredibly hard to do, even taken one at a time.
There is a beautiful secret about being in a “cliff season.” While we fight to hold onto the thing in front of us, to stay right where we are, God whispers a dream in our hearts. We have the power to force it into submission or let it take root, but new things can’t take root in the air, they have to be planted, so we have to start loosening our grip.
“Forget the former things;
do not dwell on the past.
See, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I am making a way in the wilderness
and streams in the wasteland” (Isaiah 43:18-19, NIV).
Let go.
Then what? I remember the first time I had the bravery to do a cliff jump into a lake. Once I was in free-fall, I flailed and screamed and I fought the choice I made until I slapped the surface of the water. The sting lingered for quite a while, and I became a quick study of the “pencil jump” - much less painful. Here’s the thing, since letting go is a choice, we shouldn’t flail about with our limbs thrashing once we decide to release what we’ve been holding. We should seek God through stillness to understand where he is leading and rest in His stronghold.
“For God alone, O my soul, wait in silence,
for my hope is from him.
He only is my rock and my salvation,
my fortress; I shall not be shaken.
On God rests my salvation and my glory;
my mighty rock, my refuge is God.
Trust in him at all times, O people;
pour out your heart before him;
God is a refuge for us.
Selah” (Psalm 62:5-8, ESV).
Be still.
We need to embrace the momentum of God and allow Him to fill out hearts first, and then our hands when we are ready, all the while trusting Him to be our rock as the winds of time rush past us. We need to be attentive to where the Holy wind blows and move in step with the breath of the Spirit because the ground we crave to stand upon is really the love and truth of God, and the God we serve delights in leading us to this safe and sacred place.
In this season, I am choosing to let go and be still. I am asking God to move for me, allowing myself to become subject to the Holy motion of His spiritual realm. As a woman who historically (and sometimes still) delights in action and control in the physical realm, this is incredibly hard, but that’s why it is even more important. I want to let the fall happen and stop trying to assert my authority over everything. Instead, I will enjoy what is placed before me, rest in the presence of my Father, and move wherever the Holy Spirit leads.
What about you?
