I sat on my porch and watched both Hawks as they were carried by the wind. They soared over the trees and pasture, looping, dropping and rising, all while maintaining a position of rest. It was remarkably peaceful. They had surrendered to the whim of the wind, wings stretched wide they were unconcerned about the direction or altitude, they seemed to have no agenda. Just simply along for the ride, enjoying the scenery. I was captured by their beauty and grace and their willingness to go where the gusts took them. I have never wanted to be bird, but they made it look quite appealing.

 

Recently, I have realized that I am most comfortable with my planner open in front of me. I can spend an abnormal amount of time looking at where we have come and where we are going in the month. I love to see what is coming over the horizon. I love to mark off days completed, and review and plan days to come. There is a sense of control that I have when I write in those little boxes or compile grocery lists, to-do lists and any other sort of list I can think of. I love to plan. I learned early to only use pencil. To write in a planner with pen is a rookie mistake; so many things can change. When I use a pencil I tell myself that I am so flexible, that I am able to roll with the punches…I tell myself I am fully aware and prepared for things to change, and yet…when it comes time to use the eraser it is usually accompanied with much disappointment or frustration. I have since learned that using pencil is not an accurate measurement for my willingness to “roll with the punches.”

I am also your favorite co-pilot. I will use my navigation app most all the time, doesn’t matter which seat I am in.  I might know exactly where we are going, and how we are going to get there, but what if there is traffic (and if there is, how long will it last)? What if there is a road closure that we need to know about? I want to know what is coming up ahead and I love to track my progress. Time of arrival is my favorite feature, I know exactly when I will get somewhere, and I can adjust accordingly…amazing.  My husband thoroughly enjoys this about me, I am sure of it. While it is harmless to plan things, and perfectly acceptable to enjoy a good tracking system, (some might even say it is a wise practice), while I sat there and watched the magnificent hunters soar on the wind I seemed a world away from the picture of peace and surrender they were depicting.

Life doesn’t give us a roadmap. There is no feature for how long this trial will last. There is no app for avoiding tragedy. My nicely squared boxes hold little comfort when life spills out of those measured lines and makes a mess of my heart and mind. When anxiety creeps in, when fear corners us and when unexpected pain shocks us, staring at my penciled plans lends no wisdom or peace. Because at the end of the day “control” feels like a joke that just made you its punch line. All my plans, and lists, expectations and tracking feels strangely empty when I cling so tightly to them and they bring no relief.

I have recently been in, and will probably continue to be in, a season that has continually revealed how desperately out of control I actually am. It has brought with it the temptation to be stressed, overwhelmed, chaotic and overly sensitive. Some days I give in to the temptation believing the lie that I deserved more than what I was experiencing, and that is a dangerous place to be. “De-serve”, the latin preposition of “De” means “removal” or “separation”. The second we believe we “deserve” something, we effectively separate ourselves from an attitude to “serve”. Our focus shifts completely inward and we have no space or capacity to move outward. To live with an attitude of de-serving is to live a life without service, which leads to a lonely, bitter place.  The victim mentality snuck in, there were days I have lived with much self-pity and an indignation for a life that felt so completely insane.

Other days, though, other days I experienced a peace that was hard won, a peace that required a surrendering. I wish it was my default, this surrendering, but typically I desperately grab for any small area that I can assert authority over, assuring myself that gaining control will bring a sense of relief and peace, when all it does is taunt me deeper into a maze of confusion and despair, always staying one step ahead. Constantly grappling for control makes a companion of weariness and gives your emotions the position of navigator. And they have no idea where true north is.

God spoke to my heart while I studied the hawks. There is a sweetness in the surrendering. I long to rest and be renewed, to believe that all that I experience in this life has meaning and carries purpose. The hawks surrender to the currents of the wind, I surrender to the current of His love, and His love does not proceed on “a whim.” His love is sure, steadfast, steady. Mourning is turned to joy, weeping is turned to dancing, all that feels hopeless is transformed into possibility, the box on my calendar that holds the most smudged lines becomes the box that reveals the most Glory of the Lord. And instead of being burdened by the weight of disappointment and confusion, of plans discarded or unrealized, instead I behold the Glory of “the everlasting God, the Creator of all the earth. He never grows weak or weary. No one can measure the depths of His understanding. He gives power to the weak and strength to the powerless…those who trust in the Lord will find new strength. They will soar high on wings like eagles. They will run and not grow weary. They will walk and not grow faint.” Isaiah 40:28-31

I will still pencil in my plans. But I am resolved to not let the peace that was won for me at the cross be dependent on whether or not I use my eraser. I chose to open my wings in surrender to the power, strength and incomprehensible love of an unsearchable God who makes it His great pleasure to take everything in this life and transform it for my good, and His Glory.

 

Beholding His Glory in the soaring,