Clutching Church Pews and Steering Wheels

The other day I was in the car hurrying to go nowhere, thoughts flying all over the place. I’d slipped back into stinking thinking. Into trying to control certain situations. Into assuming I knew better than God.

My worries felt so…

Necessary. Justified.

Deep down, I knew my behavior didn’t match my one word for the year Enoughas in, God is more than enough for me.

And then this song came on the radio. When Matt Maher sang the phrase, “Lord, I need You, oh, I need You, every hour I need You…” I went back to my childhood, to a song we sang in church.

All of a sudden, I’m eight years old again singing,I need Thee every hour” in my shaky voice. My small clammy hands cling to the wooden church pew.

To the illusion of control.

Because even as a little girl, I was afraid to let go.

In my car, my grownup hands clutch the steering wheel like an ambulance driver heading to the next crisis.

And bless Matt’s heart. He just keeps singing…

“Lord, I need You, oh, I need You…”

A soft voice inside says,

Let go. Unclench your fingers.

I stop at a red light and stretch open my hands.

I’m telling you the truth.

In an instant, the sweetest peace filled my car.

Just by loosening my grip on life.

If something (or someone) is weighing you down, take a couple of minutes to listen to this song, watch the pictures, and open your fingers.

I’m praying for you.

Thank You, Lord.

You’re my ONE DEFENCE. MY RIGHTEOUSNESS. OH, GOD, HOW I NEED YOU.

Love,

Julie

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Driveway to My Heart Part Two

Saturday morning, several people were heavy on my heart. Walking down my DRIVEWAY, I thought about their situations. A broken sobriety. Possible jail time. Infertility. Divorce. Someone feeling beaten down in her job. A young mother, 36, died unexpectedly.

My prayers quickly shifted to, God, hello? Where are You? Have You forgotten?

He didn’t offer any explanations, so put my iPod on and hushed my thoughts.

This song came on.

It was as though I’d never heard it.

As the music played, a feather-soft suggestion landed in my heart.

It seemed ridiculous.

Unnecessary.

Awkwardly humbling, actually.

Open your fingers.

I glanced at my hands. They were tight like a boxer’s hands. Why should I open my fingers?

I didn’t feel like it.

Open your fingers and stretch out your hands.

Such a silly idea. A tiny act that couldn’t possibly amount to much.

I ignored the thought for a few seconds.

And then that music–those sweet words–their gentle persistence filled me.

When I said yes, when I unfurled my fingers and slowly turned my hands over, opening them toward heaven, I’m telling you the truth.

I felt the Power and the Presence of The Great I Am.

The Great I Am!

The Great I Am!

There was something supernatural in the unclenching of my fists.

And my will.

The power of the song was so much stronger than my concerns. My worries floated up, up, and away.

 

Here’s where it happened.

This is the very spot where The Great I Am met me.

The place where I opened my hands.

And let go. Again.

Praying for you, my precious friends.

Love,

Julie