To Live with Outstretched Palms

With each blessing and opportunity presented to me, I eagerly jump to be a part of life. Somehow, I always find my schedule overflowing the brim of life and yet somehow I am always looking for more. There is this drive within me to want the most out of life, a restlessness that never ceases to seek newness and excitement, a yearning for adventure and heart. However, with this drive there is one major issue, I am a human and I need rest. Now, if you look at my life over the last few months, there can be an argument that we may not need as much rest as one may think, but don't let me life fool you, I am tired (and sneak 10 minutes naps in wherever possible). Now there are differing opinions about how much sleep we need, taking care of what we've been entrusted, and being wise with our time, and I'm not going to argue that these aren't valid points, but it's not really the point of this post. The point of this post is that I want everything that the Lord has in store for me!

Now, being more of an assertive personality, I tend to grab at opportunities assuming that if they are good, then they must be from the Lord. However, if this is true, then how come there are some many amazing opportunities and not enough daylight? A long time ago, in undergrad, I remember the Lord convicting me through a simple idea. Was I just doing Godly things or was I doing the things God asked me to do? OUCH. I don't know if you have ever been here, but imagine have a schedule where you literally have to pencil your friends in (limiting them to an hour because that's the largest block of time available), sleep less than 5 hours a night, and are being asked to add more to your plate. I'm not one to shy away from speaking my mind, so saying No is not the issue, but rather, I just want to do everything. I want to be a part of everything. I want to change the world and see it become a better place! BUT, if I am doing things, even if they are Godly, without God, then I've created an idol. OUCH AGAIN. and I'm operating out of my own strength, which as history has proved, will end in some sort of mangled wreckage. TANGLED OUCH. 

I don't know about you, but this feels like quite a dilemma to me. A life packed with many good, Godly things, but how do I discern what is of God and what I am choosing because I enjoy it, it makes me feel good, or for some other purpose? So, I stand there with arms stretched out in front of me, palms to the ceiling, with hands open. All I can do is surrender. Ask the Lord to take what is not His plan from my life. Now, I don't know if you have ever prayed this prayer and done this action, but it can be quite scary. What if He takes the thing you love the most? What if He takes everything? But you can't live in these what-ifs because what happens is you start standing with fists outstretched and a hardened heart. What good is it to do Godly things with a hardened heart? What will people see through your service? They will see effort, and exhaustion, and frustration. Then the question should be pondered, are these acts even Godly any more if God is no longer the motive? YIKES. 

So, daily I am learning to surrender. Palms outstretched, begging God to take what isn't from Him, and yearning to have a heart open to allow the Lord to direct my steps. To have a heart brave enough to walk into the path I am called. To have a heart humble enough to know God is wiser than I am. Even if it means sacrificing things I love and am invested in, I would rather grieve the loss than operate outside of God's plan. This is not because I don't believe God can get glory out of my circumstances and effort. I know that in all things God is able to get glory. However, I do this because I want to live the most impacting life possible, resting in the Lord, and walking on the path already laid out before me. I want His will above my will and to serve Him all the days of my life. I just pray that my heart will always listen to this yearning for God's will and that I will forever hold my palms out in surrender.

Serve Hymn by Andrew Peterson