Letting Go

To let go doesn't mean to stop caring; it means I can't do it for someone else.
To let go is not to cut myself off; it's the realization that I can't control another.
To let go is not to enable, but to allow learning from natural consequences.
To let go is to admit powerlessness, which means the outcome is not in my hands.
To let go is not to try to change or blame another; it's to make the most of myself.
To let go is not to care for, but to care about.
To let go is not to fix, but to be supportive.
To let go is not to judge, but to allow another to be a human being.
To let go is not to be in the middle of arranging all the outcomes, but to allow others to affect their own outcome.
To let go is not to be protective; it is to permit another to face reality.
To let go is not to deny, but to accept.
To let go is not to nag, scold or argue, but instead to search out my own shortcomings and correct them.
To let go is not to adjust everything to my desires, but to take each day as it comes and to cherish myself in it.
To let go is not to criticize and regulate anyone, but to try to become what I dream I can be.
To let go is not to regret the past, but to grow and live for the future.
To let go is to fear less and love more.
To let go and let God, is to find peace.

Being Poor in Spirit

Just received a copy of Tozer's The Pursuit of God in the mail today and started reading it.  Another book that I just read references it frequently, so I thought I would read it as well.  In the second chapter Tozer discusses "The Blessedness of Posessing Nothing," as related in the beatitude of the poor in spirit (Matthew 5:3) and the story of Abraham being asked to sacrifice his son.  He recounts that Abraham was asked to sacrifice his son, because Abraham's love for his only son had usurped God's position in Abraham's heart.  Tozer goes on to discuss the dangers in wanting and having "things" (whether they are material or not,) and the blessing we receive when we let those things go.  He points out that it does not mean we have to become beggars in the street, but that it is their possession in our heart which is relevant.  I suppose for some it may however, mean actually forgoing something, just as an alcoholic must give up alcohol if they want to receive life.

Anyway, so far it's well worth the read, and it inspired me to do a little inventory here on the things that I need to focus on dispossessing, and giving over to God.  I'm sure that some of these may take a lifetime, over many attempts... (in no particular order)

1. smoking (current quit date August 28th)
2. nice clothing
3. nice home things, having a perfect home
4. perfect image (think Martha Stewart)
5. recognition
6. being right
7. control, my way (this include control over other drivers on the highway :) )
8. being "better" than my sister
9. husband, marriage
10. my daughter
11. getting everything done - the prominence of my to-do list
12. family and friends
13. beauty and fitness

I will probably end up adding to this list as I ruminate on it more, but that was just what I came up with after my first impression... should be simple, no?

On Steps 1, 2 & 3

The biggest effect that alcohol had on my self-esteem was that it made me feel badly about myself because I couldn't manage to control my drinking on my own. I felt certain that if I wanted a good life badly enough, that I would be able to control it on my own. I thought that I simply had to choose "not to drink," but that never seemed to work, I kept drinking anyway. That in turn, made me feel like I was no good, and didn't want it badly enough. While it's true that it is my choice whether or not to drink, I didn't realize that I needed help, and that it wasn't quite as simple as sheer will-power. The constant guilt and inner dialogue and turmoil left me feeling like I was no good, and I was the problem.

It robbed my husband of the ability to trust me. It made me angry and resentful towards him. Because he didn't treat me as I should be treated. He didn't know how to handle the situation, and therefore did treat me unfairly at times, but that wasn't his fault, it was mine. No body taught him in school how to handle and alcoholic wife. It took treatment for me to be able to see that. When I started recovery I still felt very much like he was responsible for some of my problem. It also robbed me of some very special time with my daughter as a young child. Although I was always there, and although I was a "responsible, functioning" drunk, the disease was ruling my life, and my natural desires weren't. There was plenty of time wasted managing my disease, and hiding it. The effects that drinking had on me changed my nature and removed valuable patience I needed and replaced it with selfishness and self absorption.  That doesn't make for a great mother.

Spiritually drinking left me stranded. I still had "faith" but faith alone gets you no where. I never stopped praying that God would intervene and help, but whenever He tried, I turned around and marched the wrong way. I was left empty and feeling very alone. I knew that God could help, but I couldn't figure out how. I still kept trying to do it myself, not realizing the importance of surrender. I didn't realize the arrogance in that, and I didn't realize that left me wandering in the dark, left with nothing but my own inability.

My higher power is an awesome one. He is everything. He is the beginning and the end. He is the origin of everything and its conclusion. He is everything I can't even fathom. He is love. He loves each one of us more than we could love any other person, even our own children. He made love, he is the source of it, and He gives it freely. He is all-knowing. He knew me before I was born, even the number of hairs on my head. He knows my thoughts before I do. He is all-powerful. No tragedy is to diffcult for Him, no trouble too great. If you can imagine it, He can fix it. He can fix it even if you can't imagine it. He is all-mighty. There is no person, no force, no situation which He can not triumph over. Every bad force or thing you could imagine in this world shakes in its boots at the thought of Him. Everything evil in this universe even acknowledges Him as God. He is merciful. He forgives us. And He is our salvation. He sacrificed His own son for each and every one of us. And it is through Him that we all have the opportunity for redemption. Eventhough 150,000,000,000 of us have probably walked this earth, He cares so deeply for each one of us that He is always there, always willing and always capable. He knows every detail of our lives and every thought we have from the moment we are born until the moment we die. He wants the best for us in our lives and has a plan for us. Even little, old, inconsequential me. We just have to turn to Him and ask.

And for me, turning to Him and asking means getting up every morning, and telling Him that I surrender to His plan for me. It's as simple as that.  Yes there are alot of other details, but the only one essential is that I must want Him in my life, and give myself to Him completely each and every day. I must be hungry for Him. I must know that He is the way, the truth and the life. That there is no way to happiness but through Him. And you know, the line about "not forgetting our past nor wishing to shut the door on it" is very true for me in the sense that it was alcoholism that led me to this realization. I "knew" it, but I didn't know it.  It was my inability to stop drinking, by relying on my own will-power alone, that led me to "give up." Giving up doesn't have to mean succumbing. It doesn't have to mean giving in. It just means that we have to stop trying to do it alone. Admit defeat. That we need help. It is true that "the poor in spirit" and "those who mourn" are blessed. For without being poor in spirit or ever mourning we would never know how much we need God. If everything was just perfect all the time, what would we need God for? Why would we ever come to know Him better?

Now that doesn't mean that, now that I have figured this out, that I will lead a perfect life. It doesn't mean that there won't be times where I have a bad day. It doesn't mean that I won't make mistakes, or get frustrated or start getting tired of "the program." It doesn't mean that I won't fall into routine and away from what is best for me. But as long as I keep asking him to come into my life; as long as I keep remembering to act myself into new ways of thinking and do the "next right thing" I shouldn't ever stray too far.  WHo knew that it took "giving up" to win?  Rather ironic, no?