oh hey…
It’s that time again, the laying down of it all. The art of surrender once more. So here it is… the things I hold dear, the things I treasure, the lost and found things, the things I hoped for and the wonders I would find through it all.
I lay it down, that beautiful future ahead, the paths unknown, the detours… the valleys, the mountaintops. The dreams I had to lead people, to pastor, to worship, to combine them all. The life I hoped for on the farm, the open spaces I so desire to create – I bring them once again into your faithful hand. I give to you my growing old and sitting on porches together, I give you the sunsets upon the field, along with the gate to the driveway of our country home among the gum trees. I give you the loss, I give you the hope. I give you the next steps and the ones far off on the horizon. I give you the boys weddings, my expectations… my hopes for them. I give you the career I never thought I wanted, only to discover I deeply desired because I am actually good enough to pursue it. This I give you too – my smarts, my silly, my insecurities, my uncertainties. I give you my fear of failing and fear of succeeding. I give you the limelight. I give you being seen. I give you being misunderstood and unvalued. I give you my lens – the way I see this world. I lay down my platforms, tangible or not, nonetheless all lit with joy, hardships and wonder. I give you the gardens I want to plant. I give you the grandchildren I hope to hold. I give you the next generation and the next and the next and the next… and all their nests. Their hearts and their homes.
I choose to honour this season transitioning me out of my titles and positions. I choose to accept you place me where I am needed, with or without titles. I lay those significant places down into your caring hands. I give you the fear of rejection, of no longer holding privilege in peoples hearts. I give you the grieving of loss of established and known things. The things once bringing great joy and complications into my heart. I surrender my thoughts, my memories and my relationships. I give to you the place of influence I had, and now no longer feel I can grasp. I give you that feeling of insignificance, that place of listlessness. I give you the opinions of others I’ve held on to too tightly, the voices that mattered most and yet shaped me poorly. I give you the narratives I tell myself they’re saying about me, truth or not. I give it all to you. I give you the noise, the quiet, the spaces of my mind, the places I won’t let you in. I give you my silence, I give you my slow. I give you the pace I didn’t want to choose, I give you my flow.
I give you the mullah. Oh… for the love of money. The thing of such security and sense of control. I give you my illusions, the fleeting feelings of routine, the rhythms, the grasp. I give you this, I know I can’t worship you both. So I choose you, I choose your provision, I choose your riches. I lay down the things that feel glamorous but leave me empty. I give you the incomes and the things I want to spend it on, the joys we could encounter with such provision. I give you the glitz, I give you the poverty. I give you those moments where I choose poorly and thought only of my self. I give you generosity, outpouring and though I believe the abundance is an overflow of the heart not of the bank account, I give you this outpouring. So I give you those to you too. My heart – would you fill it with riches untold and continue to pour out so we can know true life and true fulfilment.
I give you the house on the farm. The AirBnb I so desperately want to run, I give you the people who will walk through our doors and be grateful, the ego and pride growing from how we could bless. The homes we declared as thoroughfares for your Kingdom. I give you this home. And I give you the future cottage by the beach, filled with light and flow. I give you the contents, the mess, the chaos. I give you my piano and the songs it creates, I give you tunes and melodies, the tears and expressions. I give you chairs and who will sit upon them, the table and who will gather around. I give you the spaces, the nooks and the crannies, the inbetweens. I give you the foundations, the fear of them crumbling. The sinkholes in my heart. I give you the magnolia tree, the jacaranda tree, the chickens, the farm and all the things they represent for me. I give you the open spaces and the closed ones too. I lay it down the ordinariness of the suburbs and the desires for grandious breadth within a room. I give you the comfort of the lounge, the windows bringing light. I give you the cupboards, some overflowing, others beautifully minimal. I give you the framed memories, the drawings from little hands.. I give you the pillows, we rest our heads up and dream the dreams. I give you the poop – so much poop. I give you all the things I didn’t realise I possess: strength, intelligence and courage. I lay them down too.
I give to you my most valued resource, the thing I take for granted most. My many days without counting them as my last. I give you my wasted spaces, the things I have forgotten, the mistakes I have made. I give you the rest of my days. I give you my attitude, and my purpose. I give you my daily need to make the most of every minute. I give you the details and the dreams. I give you my productivity, I give you my play time, the things that bring me joy. I give you my morning routines and my staying up lates, my attempts to bring my bedtime earlier. I give you the start I give you the end. I give you my great desire to be unseen and private yet an open book for all to read. All of me and my time is yours.
I give you my body, the loving and loathing. I give you my strength and my scars, the stories they tell. I give you the fear of loosing it all, or perhaps of just loosing my mind. I give you the fairy dances on my back, the ones only little fingers can create… I crave it daily. I give you the buzzing under my skin from my overwhelm. I give you the ringing in my ears and my eyes that desire to shut the brightness out. I give you my heart beats and the deficient blood flowing through my veins. I give you my womb, the loss and the life. I give you my feet and where they tred. I give you my mouth and the words I speak. To you I give the things I’ve said, the harm and the helpful, the wise and wounded… and also the words simply unsaid. I give you my mid-life, along with my past, present and future. I give you the binging the damage I have created to my own body because I didn’t love me enough to see. So I give you my health, my hurting and my healing. I give you all of me.
I lay down my boys – along with my joy and my fear. I give you their little lives, their dreams and hopes too. I lay down into your hands the mistakes I have made and yet you redeemed. I lay down the things I have done well, with the pride I carry when I see how they can smash and slay the giants in their own lives… and I lay down the things yet to come. The life giving moments, the empowering moments, the undoing moments, the terribly hard and hurtful moments. I give you my husband, all his flaws and failings, I give you my heart for him and my hopes for him to be his best self. I give you the life I have poured into them, and that which I have stolen in hurtful words and rejection. I give you the moments of pure, unadulterated bliss. The soul connection. This unique and forged connection. The intimacy of lives, of stories and bodies intertwined. I give you the glimpses of hope for who he can become, I give you the laughter, the tears. I give you the slow burn. I give you our story, though it is being written. I give you the way forward, I give you the path thus far.
I give you my all, the things I can think of and the things I cannot. I surrender it all to you.
– Forever Yours