Crying is easier than letting go

There’s an article about a photo that recently went around and around the inner webs cuing tears and awwww’s from both men and women alike. (Did you miss it? Click here.) It displays perfectly the relationship of a parent (in this case, a mother) and a child. We humans are not perfect, but it’s my personal belief that we get a tad bit closer to perfection when we love another person more than we love ourselves.

Recently I was wrecked and not in a good way. I was angered, left feeling betrayed and filled the urge to climb on a building’s roof and scream with frustration until I had absolutely no voice left. But since no roof buildings were availability nor did I really want to go out in the cold, I settled with tears.

I cried and cried (like the baby in the article) and thought over and over again how this particular thing wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. It wasn’t just. In hindsight, it all boiled down to what I (Ariel) wanted or what I (Ariel) didn’t want. But in that moment all I wanted was someone to come beside me, rub their hands through my hair and let me cry and cry until I got a 10.5 scaled headache.

I wanted someone to say to me what the mom said about her child in this article:
“At 2:00 am when pitiful desperate squeals come through a baby monitor, I will come to her.
Her first hurt, her first heartbreak, we will come to her. We will be there to hold her, to let her feel, to make decisions on her own, and we will be there. We will show her through our tears and frustrations at times, that it is okay to cry, and it’s okay to feel.

That we will always be a safe place, and we will always come to her.”

I wanted for someone to hear me. To come to me. To tell me it was going to be okay.

But then occurred to me that someone already had. They had fought, loved and even died for me. And how my crying was a mask even onto itself. It is easier for me to cry than to surrender. It is easier to hold on than to let go. For when you let go, you can’t pick it up again, you just have to watch it fall or fly. And what action it does take, is no longer up to you. I’m being real when I admit that’s super tough for me.

I do not have a formula on how to surrender or how to actually get over your hill. It’s a lesson I relearn every year, month, day, hour, second. I’m in love with my control too much to be a perfect example what to do. But I do know how much peace I’m filled with when I actually do wave the white flag. It’s not immediate, sometimes it takes a few days of fighting the temptation to take back the wheel or put down the flag, but when I start becoming really content with the decision of surrender, that’s where the peace begins to take hold. And not just any peace, peace beyond all understanding.

When I’m brought to my knees I have to ask a few questions. A big one is if I want to live a life where I walk around blindly, wondering what I’m supposed to be doing in each chapter or if I want to live my life in total understanding that where I am is where I am supposed to be, even if I don’t understand it.

May the song below be an encouragement to you, as it was to me once my pity party of one got over. I checked Facebook. I didn’t know why. But I found out sure enough. My friend posted lyrics from the song below and I knew it was for me to see.

You are not alone, blog reader. And know that whenever your hallelujah grows tired, if you ask him, God will give you a new song. Here’s the beautiful lyrics:

You’ve brought me to the end of myself
And this has been the longest road
Just when my hallelujah was tired
You gave me a new song
I’m letting go, I’m letting go
I’m letting go, and falling into You

I confess I still get scared sometimes
But perfect love comes rushing in
And all the lies that screamed inside
Go silent
The moment You begin

You remind me of things forgotten
You unwind me until I’m totally undone
And with Your arms around me
Fear was no match for Your love
Now You’ve won me

And here’s the song:“Letting Go”, Steffany Frizzell Gretzinger & Bethel Music

When I find a recipe on surrender without the fight for control, I’ll circle back with all of you, but until then let’s keep pressing on together. Let’s keep trusting.  Let’s keep remembering who we are to Christ in spite of our faults or failures. Let’s keep lifting our eyes to see where our hope comes from instead of looking in our own hearts, because our hearts can be deceived.