"Do not remember the former things, nor consider the things of old. Behold, I will do a new thing, now it shall spring forth; Shall you not know it? I will even make a road in the wilderness and rivers in the desert." (Isaiah 43:18-19)
Letting go is releasing your grip on what was so that you can embrace what is. It is the act of releasing, in order to obtain freedom and the ability to move beyond what you were holding on to. It is often not an easy thing to do. Letting go requires strength and courage. It requires trust. It requires the hope that what you are letting go of will make way for something that you can truly hold on to.
You may be standing in the desert of your past surveying the barren, desolate terrain: Large boulders of resentment, prickly cactuses of shame, the hot sand of judgement, the dry air of regret. You may be standing in the desert of unforgiveness looking out over the expanse of miles and miles of endless scorching sand separating you from that person you won't forgive. You may be standing in the wilderness of loss unable to see beyond the thick forest and underbrush of sorrow that your grief has caused. Or perhaps you find yourself in the wilderness of confusion where the only things you can see are the towering trees of indecision and the brambles of fear.
Wherever we may find ourselves, we are told the secret of letting go in the above verses in Isaiah 43. We are told not to remember nor consider the former things and the things of old. The secret is in the beholding and in the knowing. When we 'behold' someone or something we gaze upon it intently. We focus our attention on it fixedly. In the process of beholding we come to know more of what or whom we have fixed our attention on. What was the 'new thing' that God was doing? A 'thing' that could make a road in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. A 'thing' that could cause us to let go.
It is the only thing that can bring lasting change and the ability to truly let go. It is the only thing that can make a road in the wilderness or a river in the desert. It is the Cross, it is the redemptive work of Christ Jesus on the Cross. When we come and we gaze upon the Cross we can do nothing less than be transformed, and in that transformation comes the ability to truly let go. To let go of all that we were outside of the Cross, to let go of all anyone else may have done to us, to let go of fear, sorrow, pride, selfish desires, sin, unforgiveness, pain, hurt, loss, or whatever may have been holding us back from all that we truly are.
As we gaze upon the Cross we come to truly know our precious Lord, to truly see what he accomplished for us and in us. So, what is it you need to let go of? It was only in beholding the Cross that I truly came to let go. To let go of me, to truly know that He did away with all I was there at the Cross in Himself so that I could truly live in Him by faith. To let go of my past, both the hurt it caused me and the hurt it caused others. To let go of my insecurities, my fears, my loss, my pain, my wants, my desires, and all of my wrong thinking.
I implore you to let go. Behold Him, behold the Cross, until that thing you were holding onto fades away in the light of all He is. Let go and behold the road that opens up in your wilderness; the river that rushes through your dry desert. We were made to move forward, we were made to live, and it is in the letting go that we are truly free to do so.
To find out more about my blog or my writing, please visit my website at hawkewriter.com
Anne Marie Hawke
For whatsoever is born of God overcomes the world: and this is the victory that overcomes the world, our faith. (1 John 5:4)
I knew things were not right. Things were happening that I could not explain. My speech was becoming a little slurred at times. I couldn't remember patient's names as well as before. Some of my joints were randomly swelling. I remember the day I became scared that there was something really wrong with me. I was sitting in a bible study, and my good friend, Nancy, was leading the study...I went to ask her a question and I could not recall her name---at all. It just wasn't there. It took my brain what seemed like an eternity to remember that her name was Nancy. Then, about a month later, I awoke to find my left knee was three times its normal size. I was having trouble walking, but thought perhaps I had injured it while working out. The swelling did not go down, in fact it grew worse, until I finally found myself in an orthopedic office having tests run to see what I had done to my knee.
My knee was fine, no injury, no arthritis, nothing. The PA looked up at me and said, "I would like to get you checked for Lyme Disease." I agreed and went to have the full blood test that afternoon, and two days later she called me and said, "You have Lyme Disease and I recommend you go see an infectious disease doctor, as I feel it is late-stage Lyme." And in that moment everything in my world changed. There was a spinal tap, a PICC line was put in for daily IV meds that I would give to myself every day for a month, and there was fear, a lot of fear. Three weeks into the IV meds I was in the ER with pancreatitis. The PICC line came out, but my body was a mess. There was talk of them taking my gall bladder out, to which I said, "No." I developed eczema over 90% of my body as my system fought to deal with the residual damage done by the IV meds. Every organ system in my body was affected.
And so the fight began. The fight of faith, the fight to get my body back, to get my health back. And it was here, on the days and the nights that no one saw or experienced but God and I, that I found victory. Something happens when medical science fails, when the medications did not solve the problem, but rather made it worse, when you are so ill that breathing seems like a full time job that you are not getting paid for, when you are up at 1:00am because the pain and discomfort is so bad that all you can do is lie on the floor in your bedroom and cry out to God. It was here that God met me: in that space where I wanted to give up, but I just wouldn't.
I started to pour over His word and I started to believe it, not just read it. I personalized it and began to speak it out loud. I worshiped like I was already healed. I dove into prayer like I was an Olympic swimmer. I encouraged and prayed for other people who were struggling with illness. And I got up, I showed up, I fought through the fear, through the lies that told me that I would not get better, through people telling me horror stories about other people they knew who were dealing with late-stage Lyme Disease, through skepticism from family and friends who were not open to the alternative methods of handling Lyme Disease that I chose to employ.
And I trusted God. I trusted Him like I never had before. I found out that He can be trusted. When it makes no sense, when it hurts, when you are so sick that thoughts of dying cover you like a shroud. He can be trusted. So, don't you quit. Choose to press in, to press on, to believe despite what you see. We live by faith, not by sight. (2 Corinthians 5:7)
'They' tell me that I will always have Lyme Disease. It's been over a year now since I was diagnosed, and in that time I've learned that it doesn't matter what 'they' say; the only thing that truly matters is what He said, and our victory is found in Him.
To subscribe to my blog or to find out more about my writing, visit my website at hawkewriter.com.
November 2018. Anne Marie Hawke
qUIET IN CHAOS
Quiet in Chaos is a blog about nothing, everything, and all things inbetween…it’s a space, an ellipsis, a deep pause. Life can be chaotic, and often needs more moments of quiet…So join me as I share and give through the written word, the place I find my Quiet in Chaos…