Let go

I can be quite an anxious person, a quiet in-the-corner worrier trying to see the bright side. I have lost count of the number of times this verse has been given to me (thanks, if one of those times it was you): “Do not be anxious about anything, but in every situation, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.”

 

You might think that’s easy to say – but I find this verse very reassuring, because this isn’t twee advice, this is God. This is God telling us through Paul that we do not actually need to be anxious. At all. Things trouble us, but we don’t need to drown in them.

 

We had a helpful discussion in our Bible study group last week, based on this verse, about letting go of anxieties and burdens. Somebody famous apparently once said, in response to a concern about constant prayer seeming to make no difference, ‘Stop praying’. Not because we shouldn’t take the things that trouble us to our heavenly father – of course we should – but sometimes we can think we are letting go in prayer and all we are doing is reminding ourselves of the problem and going over and over it in our minds. We can get stuck in a loop of telling God all about this situation we’ve been in for months and analysing how and why it is the way it is – but without actually giving it over to him. One member compared it to the classic “Don’t think of an orange”. (Are you now thinking of an orange?)

 

Don’t think of an orange. Especially not this one.

 

Prayer isn’t magic – we won’t necessarily feel any different, and the problem itself may not disappear. But if we believe God is capable, kind, loving and fair, then part of praying about these things should be letting go of them. We are dependent on God, and that’s the point. 

A leap of faith

Before Christmas, a friend challenged me to do something I “wouldn’t usually do”. So this week, I agreed to go climbing (this is where we went). It was much chalkier than I expected, but the crash mats at the foot of the walls were reassuringly bouncy.



The Depot: Nottingham

 
From the off, I banned the word fail (it’s not too confidence-building), and we opted instead for “deferred success”. A very appropriate term for an activity like this, where quite frequently at first you don’t succeed. But you try, and try again.
 
The moment of deferred success that has most stuck with me was my second attempt at a particular course I hadn’t managed first time around. There was a point where I knew in theory what had to come next, but just didn’t believe I could do it. I was about ready to give up, when I heard the words “I have faith in you”.
 
What was intended as an encouragement served instead as both a guilt-trip and a challenge for my pride. Still not brimful of confidence, I just had to take a leap of faith – and it worked. I reached the top and felt I had indeed done something I wouldn’t normally have done.
 
How often is this true of all us, in all sorts of things! To get any further up the metaphorical (or in this case, physical) wall, we sometimes have to let go and remove our feet from their safety ledge. We won’t necessarily succeed the first time, and we might not even enjoy the process. But true deferred success and a sense of retrospective fun can make it all worth it.

New year, new start?

 

 
Happy New Year! New year, new start, new me... The year has just changed, which means we’re all now new people, much more capable of doing good things than we were last week. Or something.
 
The trouble is, as we discover every year, resolutions are like rules: made to be broken.
 
It’s not that setting ourselves goals of healthier lifestyles, tidier houses, better friendships, more organised work lives, or whatever it might be, is not a good thing to be doing. It’s just that we are human, and we make mistakes. By creating a list of ideals at the start of each new calendar year, we seem to be setting ourselves up to fail. With all the sincerity and effort in the world, we’re not going to be perfect people in 2014.
 
If we could fix ourselves by trying harder, there’d be no need for God to send Jesus to rescue us. (We celebrated that just last week, remember?)
 
But that doesn’t mean it’s a good idea to ignore our shortcomings and simply live our lives ever more selfishly. Instead, this year, I’m humbly advocating identifying “themes” to work on – areas of life where there is room for meaningful improvement that we can talk to God about, and work out together how to glorify him in them.
 
It being a new year becomes irrelevant – it’s never a bad time to work on being holy. What is more, whenever we fall down, we can rely on God’s grace to help us back up.