My prayer journals are filled with it.
My mind is too crowded with it.
My heart is weighed down by it.
My future is inhibited by it.
My hope is dimmed by it.
My life is tired of it.
For one brief second every morning, I forget about it.
But then it chases me down and reminds me of the battles we have yet to fight.
Concerns. Unresolved issues. Questions without answers. Angst.
I realize that this feeling is the opposite of peace. The opposite of the abundant life Jesus had in store for me.
But He made me with a mother’s heart, bent toward the wants and needs of my family. Isn’t it my job to carry those burdens around with me? To solve our problems? To take things into my own hands? To strive for answers?
As a matter of fact, the Bible is filled with stories of people who took things into their own hands. People who grew impatient with God’s plan. People who tore out on their own, determined to solve their own problems. People who jumped the journey and wrote their own ending to their own story.
I have no desire to be one of them.
Eve, who craved more knowledge than she could handle. Cain, who grew tired of his brother. Esau, who sold his birthright for a bowl of stew. Jonah, who wanted to choose his own destination. The Prodigal Son, who yearned for his inheritance to he could live life to the fullest. King David, who took another man’s wife and then had him killed.
I have no desire to take matters into my own hands. I don’t want to be the author of my own story, nor do I need to be the author of the stories of my family members.
And what I’ve learned, finally, quietly, in the moments of deepest fear and concern, is that when my eyes are focused on Jesus, my circumstances no longer matter. As a matter of fact, I can no longer see them.
Once my eyes are on Jesus, and Him alone, my prayer journals are filled with nothing but praise and wonder.
When my trust is in Jesus, my story is already written.
When my mind is on Jesus, there is nothing but peace. And abundance. And hope.
When my heart is filled with Jesus, my junk no longer matters.