bobby idol.

I know exactly what it is I put before God and most tragically choose to do absolutely nothing about it. Because let’s gets real, allowing God to have control over every aspect of your life sounds good in theory, but how many of us actually hand it over--the whole thing, that is. It’s easy only handing over pieces, while grasping tightly to others.

I am extremely guilty of negotiating with God. In honesty, I do it with everyone and everything in my life. I’m the 2 year old that holds a death grip onto about 10 toys and yet still dropps down to my knees in utter pain as I watch another child try to grab something of mine. The catch being in those brief moments between the awakening of your selfishness and a parental scolding you realize you need to give something up.

Here God, you can have my relationships with family and friends, oh... and finances. You can DEFINITELY have that one. What’s that, God? My future husband?? Um, well actually... if you don’t mind, I think I’ll hold onto that one myself.“The heart is deceitful and beyond cure...” Jeremiah 17:9. We underestimate the wickedness of our own hearts. God not only knows the very depths of our hearts, but wants to save us from the bondage of evil within it. The heart is tricky. It allows us to think we are in control, when it’s actually quite the opposite. I’m learning in this very moment that God is a jealous God and while He gives us the option to choose Him, He also reserves the right to rip every single idol you put before Him right out of your hands--and has no problem doing so. He should be number one in our hearts, no ifs, ands or buts. He deserves nothing less and won’t rest until He reigns from the throne of our hearts.

God has one by one released (for lack of a better word) every potential love interest from my life. After each failed attempt I heard Him say loud and clear... Choose me. Pick me this time. Pursue me instead of this boy. However my flesh responded with an... Okay God, how about I pick up my Bible and read a few verses AFTER I finish talking to this boy on the phone. Or better yet, what if we talk about You? That counts, right? I was allowing my current crush to get comfortable in the throne of my heart and expecting God to cozy up in John Doe’s lap. To no fault of the boys, I can almost picture God wistfully hauling him out of the chair and a couple helicopter wrestling moves later the boy is flat on his butt out in the streets. Then God ever so patiently brushes His hands off and returns to the room to give me another undeserving shot at assigning seats.

So what’s my response? I don’t think God wills me to never look in the direction of another boy. Or drop my guy friends like a bad habit. I don’t think it’s a sin to rent countless love stories upon love stories dreaming of the day my prince will come. So what would dying to myself look like in this case? I assume I won’t look too much different on the outside. I expect there will not be a physical change in my outward appearance. I’m guessing there will be no bells and whistles that I have passed on. The change will happen from within--starting from the inside and moving outward. I don’t have to attend an AA meeting to know that the first step is to admit the problem. My heart--your heart is deceitful. Meditating on the verse in Jeremiah helps to remind me that I am not in control over my hearts actions. If anything I am a victim; with my heart cleverly working against me. The second part of Jeremiah 17:9 says, “Who can understand it?” and carries on in verse 10 to answer, “I, the Lord, search the heart and examine the mind, to reward a man (or in my case a woman) according to his conduct, according to what his deeds deserve.” It all falls back on the truth that God will not withhold any good thing. He longs to fill the desires of my heart. All he asks is that I trust in Him. Delight in His ways. Let Him reign over my heart, not the next pretty boy that walks by with a killer smile and a pair of baby blues.

I say good-riddens to the falseness of my delusions. Let God deal with my manipulative heart. It’s almost bitter sweet. With my heart in God’s hands the appropriate action would result in an eager jump to my carnal death. Being a writer and a hopeless romantic with a gift of imagination that tends to run off in all directions under the sun, it’s hard for me to willingly hand over the pen of my life--of my love story. I insist that I am capable of a better storyline; followed by forced emotions and painful mistakes that can’t be erased. So instead I’m left with a paper full of scribbles and mark ups that lead me back to the first line, each time a little more discouraged than the time before. When I finally do hand the pen over to the true Author of all things, I envision a gigantic sigh of relief as the weight of all my selfish actions are removed from my chest, followed by an ‘about time’ from the Man above. I watch as He pulls out a completely fresh piece of paper and begins to write a love story so far beyond what my silly mind is even capable of wrapping itself around. And it's there that I realize, my story was a poor attempt at a carbon copy movie script complete with an unhappy ending. But immediately upon role reversals He begins intricately designing an original masterpiece for my life. A custom made, hand written story line begins to unfold created by the One who created me. Seems fitting that He might know a little better than I, not only what events should play out but how the story ends.

Dare I even say... Happily Ever After???

jennie underwood.

At what point did you decide what your future would entail? I can remember as far back as second grade deciding on my career as a country singer. I can’t sing now, nor have I ever had the ability to do such. This particular decision made prior to any knowledge of what the future holds as actually attainable. Or is the sky really the limit? At what moment in time do the decisions you make line up with how your life unfolds? Do the small choices collect together to make up who you are? And what is the appropriate action to unravel the past’s decisions, or is there?

Is my life story already written and my purpose is to simply show up everyday? Or is every moment a different path down a road I pave for myself? When do dreams cross over to the point of reality? When do your silent wishes reveal themselves to be true? At what point does the person you spent time with today become just a person you used to know? At the end of the road is it all one big blur of past, present, future?

What I decide to do tomorrow will ultimately act as a stepping stone to the rest of my life. We live in a world where people are more inclined to look upon the past. We live our lives with a no regrets policy. A statement very centered around what we’ve done, instead of what lies ahead. I could spend the rest of my twenties basking in the memories of what has made me who I am today. So in a sense am I ever really growing--or am I simply adding layers to the person I was?

What would a life look like that was centered around the future? Every action I took would serve a purpose. Every decision I made would contribute to my success or failure. If you are constantly glancing back you are bound to stumble. Are you the type of person who measures success based on how far you’ve come? Or how much closer you are to where you want to be?

Every night that we go to sleep is one more opportunity to clean our slate. Tomorrow you could wake up and unconsciously go through the motions of the day and find yourself back in bed for the night with a pretty uneventful completely normal day. Or you could wake up and consciously be aware that every move you make will somehow in some way result in a life change. Maybe not that day, or even a month from now—possibly years gone by without even a ripple, but one day you wake up unhappy wondering at what point you went wrong. And then you’re hit with the startling reality... could that day have been the day that changed the rest of your life?

letting go.

I stand alone and scared in front of this overwhelming pile of rocks with a decision to make. I must get to the top of this mountain. Everything inside of me desires what awaits me at its peak. It calls to me. I lie awake at night dreaming of the day when I will finally come to rest where clouds meet rock.

I look to my left only to find what looks to be a million people clustered around a loading station. One by one the ski lift carries the people to the top. I do a quick calculation in my head. Tears come to surface as I come to the devastating realization that it could be months, even years before my turn would come up. I can't wait that long. Or more accurately, I DON'T WANT to wait that long.

There is one more alternative. I slowly roll my head to the left, hoping for another option than the one I know I am about to face. I wipe the water from my eyes, and stare up at the rockiest steepest mountain side I have ever seen. I wipe my eyes again, hoping that I am somehow dreaming. But the mountain side still stood strong before me. I walk to the base and look up. I take a deep breath and start climbing. First my right hand, then my left. I throw my foot up and find a sturdy rock to hold my weight. Before I realize it, I am well of the ground and on my way. At this rate I’ll be at the top in no time.

I start to laugh and silently mock the people below who are patiently waiting their turn. Then I glance at the top to see all the people basking in the happiness of their success. Scenes flash in my mind of different conversations. Their advice all rings the same. Ha, I laugh at them.

Hours go by and although I have managed to climb quite high, no matter how much distance I gain, I can never seem to get any closer to my destination. What started out as fun and harmless has turned into a complete physical and emotional struggle. I am awakened to the falseness of my delusion. I cling to the mountain as tightly as I held onto the lie that I would be able to do this alone. I think back to the moment I first looked at the long line. The tears then seemed like a trickle compared to the down pour that flowed over my cheeks like a waterfall.

My body trembled. I could go no further. My hands raw from the rocks; my legs were bloody. Everything from my hair to my toe nails ached as I let out a cry of defeat. Rocks start to slide under my fingers as I realize I am losing my grip. My fingers grasp the rock. I fight to find a ledge for my feet. No luck. This is it. I cry for help. No answer.

I glance up to the top one last time, as I exhale a silent goodbye. Goodbye to my hopes. Goodbye to my dreams. Goodbye to my happy ending. The pain in my heart greatens as I become conscious to the fact that I had brought all of this upon myself. I am seconds from a rocky doom all because I had been too impatient in this certain area of my life.

A surge of pain runs through my body as my ears recognize a very distinct sound. It was a familiar voice; a strong voice, yet ever so gentle. I could barely hear the words He spoke, but at the same time having never heard anything so clear. I remembered the voice from my dreams. This voice was the reason I was so in love with the mountain peak. I listened to the sounds of happiness. I heard the promises that awaited me. He filled my ears with the sweet song of passion. He had saved a place for me at the top, and all He asked of me was my trust.

“Just put your faith in me.” He whispered sweetly in my dreams. “I will give you all of this and so much more, my child. Be patient, your time will come.”

Reality sets in as my foot slips and I start to slide a little further down the side of the mountain. I push back the pain in a desperate search for that sound, His voice. What is He saying?

“Let go. Let go. My child, just let go.”

The crying is uncontrollable now. The pain is unbearable.

“I can’t.” I scream back.

“You can’t, or you won’t?”

I shut my eyes and ears to the world as I play over in my head our conversation. I swallow the lump in my throat and take a deep breath, my body goes limp.

I let go.

I am eerily relaxed as I fall. Everything about this moment is peaceful. For the first time all day everything seemed right. I am free only to be reminded that in a few seconds I would come crashing back down to the place where this whole adventure had started; although, my condition would be far worse then when I had begun. I stopped breathing as I waited for impact. After some time had gone by I reopened my eyes to investigate. I couldn’t see where I was. I wasn’t falling anymore. I was standing upright. Everything was blurry. My hands were clean, not a scratch to be seen. My body no longer ached. I felt rejuvenated. Maybe I am dead, I thought briefly.

I walked forward through the clouds. I came to an edge. No, it couldn’t be. I couldn’t be standing on the exact mountain that I had just fallen from. But I was. Instant tears covered my eyes. I slowly regained consciousness, and immediately the questions flooded my head. What’s going on? What happened? How did I get here?

Then I heard Him speak.

“My child, I caught you in my hands and I carried you to the top just like I have promised. There is nothing good I would hold from you. I will fill every desire of your heart. But, it will be in my perfect timing. The top was in your reach all along. All you had to do was let go.”