Vunerability in Holding Things Loosely

One of my favorite authors is Henri J.M. Nouwen. In his book With Open Hands, he talks about prayer as an act of giving things to God and how this makes us feel vulnerable, because while we know God is trust-worthy, we don't know what will happen. When I think of open handed-ness, I think of Abraham and Isaac. Isaac was promised to Abraham. Abraham had waited for him, trusted for him, wanted him. Isaac was the Abraham's cherished and beloved son, his heir, the means through which God would make him the father of nations. That was what God required from Abraham, to see the posture of Abraham's heart.

I've been thinking so much about Africa lately. Partly because I'm in African History and partly because if all had gone according to...my plans, I guess, I would be getting ready to go to Kenya. And because it's a place that I think about. It just seemed that God was opening doors right and left. I'd wanted to go to Africa for so long, several years, and it wasn't a quick decision. The time seemed right, it seemed like God was drawing my heart to that continent even more and that this summer was the time to finally, finally go. My parents were against it at first and over the course of the semester, I saw their hearts change and I was so excited. And then in December, I got a phone call telling me because I wasn't sure how I would pay for college in the fall, I needed to withdraw my application. The only thing I could think of was how I must have somehow been wrong even though I felt like I'd been earnestly seeking God's heart. If that was the place all of my wrestling had brought me, to a dead end, what else could I be wrong about? It was a scary place to be. Last night David said, "maybe God just wanted to see if you were willing?" I still don't know what I think, but what I do know is that I have to learn how to hold things loosely. Nothing is mine. It goes back to meekness like we talked about at Rockbridge. Being willing to give up rights. To give up what is "mine". No thing, no person, no idea or concept is mine to hold onto.

Nouwen writes, "you feel safer to cling to a sorry past than to trust in a new future. So you fill your hands with clammy coins which you don't want to surrender... How do I open my closed hands? Don't be afraid of Him who wants to enter the space where you live, or to let him see what you are clinging to so anxiously. Don't be afraid to show the clammy coin which will buy so little anyway."



Currently listening to: Emery acoustic
Currently reading: Rebecca by Daphne Du Maurier
Current time: 3:30
Next activity: eating lunch, taking a nap