I feel it in the shift of falling leaves, the bird feeder swinging in the cold breeze scattering seeds among the pine needles and crunchy embryos of summer’s bounty. I hear it in your voice, the way your soul lays down with the setting sun, lying there cold and exposed. Wondering how the world will look with the spin of tomorrow and the winds howling for change.
How do I matter? We’re all part of this collective choir of silent stares, waiting for the answer. Grasping our hands around the finial at the bottom of the staircase, worrying if we’re dressed appropriately for the occasion of transformation. All invitation, no details.
We’ve opened the treasure chest of props to mask the pain of our wounds. Discarded them like dangling acorns letting go in order to live again. Tempted to collect them in the skirt of our apron, put them in jars for safe keeping when the enemy taunts with the familiar tale of fear.
Letting go isn’t for the meek and mild. We’re white gloved to the elbow in brave, resting our arm on the courage of the King. Taking slow steps forward, shoulders squared, balancing the tiara of trust.
Those clanging windows blown open in dirty circumstance no longer require our attention. We’ve traded the chill of doing things our own way, to buckle down in peace preparing for glory beside the fire.
Are you ready to enter the incandescent room of calling, to be presented to the world of grace? He’s holding you by the hand as you bow to the audience before him. Will you turn around to grasp the latch on the trunk of familiar comfort or bask in the smile on his face?
We’re stepping over the threshold to freedom together tomorrow as we finish this leg of the race. Will you join me?
I can hardly believe it, this is #30 in the series 31 Days of Letting Go. Tomorrow is our last post in the series and I hope you’ll come by to celebrate all that God has done. You can read the collective here. Subscribe to receive the series in your inbox or feed by adding your address in the side bar under Follow Redemptions Beauty.