“Lovingly arrive at His feet.” – as seen on a Christian blog
I latched on to this, knowing surrender was my weak spot and control was my best skill. But I wanted the peace that I saw so many others have. I wanted the graceful surrender and was up for the practice.
So I set off thinking that this letting go would feel good. “Lovingly arrive at his feet” Ok. With love. With grace. With patience. I imagined I would learn to let go easily. I would learn to let go like I learned to say “mama.” It would just happen. I imagined I would learn to let go delicately, to be caught in strong arms.
I was caught and His arms were strong, but it was not delicate. There was little grace and I would have used a list of adverbs before I used “lovingly” to describe how I fell.
His feet were in front of me but the arrival was messy. There were days where screaming at Him was the only way my heart knew how to communicate. There were times where I ignored His voice, hid my face, or ran from outstretched arms.
My collapse was not smooth. It was rigid and I was standoff-ish. My fall was not quiet. It was loud and I yelled when I felt unheard. My surrender was not beautiful. It was messy and I was selfish.
But in the noise and the mess, His feet were there. I had arrived at His feet long before I knew of His presence. Yet, it was not the arrival so many painted it out to be. The surrender was not perfect and it was not finished. I will keep throwing myself at the foot of the cross. I will keep collapsing from the weight I can no longer sustain on my own. I will continue to fall to my knees when I am breaking. I can’t guarantee elegance in my advent but can guarantee that I will fall with everything I have.
Emma Henderschedt, FVM Silver Spring 2019-2020
Originally posted on Emma's blog: emmahenderschedt