letting go

Things never play out like you imagine.

And that's real hard for me to swallow sometimes. Like a jagged stone, gritting in my throat.

My mind plays scenes, you see. What's to come, what's been done and spoken. What I should have said, what I will speak. I have many plans for the future and regrets for the past.

I feel helpless when I perceive reality:
life is not in my hands.

How tangibly terrible, frightening, and
immense,
that is.


Oh, but let me remind:
it's beautiful too. 

Wildly beautiful, daringly exciting, and sublimely intoxicating.

This unknown, when you face it squarely-

you are freed.

Freed to trust and learn. You don't have to walk on your own anymore, when all you did was stumble. You are freed to make mistakes and acknowledge your weakness and honest place. Let go, place all your plans into the basket where they belong. Give up your worry; it was a waste of time anyways. Live boldly, falling into the warm, scarred hands that hold the world up. You never knew what you were doing. You just don't have to pretend any longer.

. . .I don't have to pretend any longer. And though I forget and fall back into my habits of playing scenes and end with a fresh faucet of bitterness and disappointment flowing, I am caught by the one who is not bound by time. He's not bound by what man is.

So let me run, free. Not like people in pictures, with the wind in their hair, rebelliously beautiful and confident in their youth. No, I will will run, drunk on the Holy Spirit, ugly and broken and bruised

yet free to the core.

Freed by those beautiful hands holding me.