μετανοέω: Away From Self-Reliance

It's been a frosty two months. The warm, sunshine thoughts that started the year have been frozen right over with pride and self-righteousness. I was so full of hope as I named the year. The year of μετανοέω, of turning. I hoped at the beginning that this would be a year full of leaning into my sweet Lord Jesus, a year of listening and quiet trust, of gentle fearlessness and sure power.

I made lists of things that I should do each day, each week - the mothering, the wifing, the friending, the teaching. The lists were supposed to help me steward these high callings, remember all the details, keep it all in order. It turned out that I was just making a list of things that kept me away from my God.

What I have failed to learn and live is that no amount of work will ever give me peace. There will always be more to do and I'll never feel like I've done enough. All the crossed-off lists in the world will not bring me closer to finding what I really desire.

When my life is controlled and evaluated by my lists, I rely on my own poor strength. I move from task to task joylessly, missing the holiness all around. I rely on my weak skill to be both teacher and student and fail to see the what should be learned. I assume my intentions make me good enough. I scramble through the day restless and thirsty, fearful that someone is going to notice my secret: I am not enough.

For long months, God has called quietly to me, beckoning me deeper into mystery and abundant life:

He said, "Come, and I will make you new, " and I have replied, "I am working on it, Lord."

He said, "I will give you rest," and I have answered, "I need to finish just one more thing..."

And so His voice has grown faint and I have arrived at the end of myself (again) and I look and see the ruin and fruitlessness of all that I've worked at.

Because you have forgotten the God of your salvation, and have not been mindful of the Rock of your stronghold, therefore you will plant pleasant plants and set out foreign seedlings; in the day you will make your plant to grow, and in the morning you will make your seed to flourish; but the harvest will be a heap of ruins in the day of grief and desperate sorrow. (Isaiah 17:10-11)

The things that matter most in this life cannot be framed in to-do lists. The things that matter most happen quietly in the heart. They are hidden and abstract and they can't be crossed off: love, joy, peace, faith, wonder...

Then the voice said again, 'If you are thirsty, come and drink... Are you not thirsty?'

'I'm dying of thirst,' said Jill.

'Then drink," said the Lion.

(from The Silver Chair by C.S. Lewis)