From the very beginning, I had planned to post each and every day about the worry that I was laying down at the Cross.
But I've spent the better part of the past four days worrying over the fact that I haven't even posted. The enormous weight of failure has beared down so heavy on my soul that I have struggled to breath. I have lain awake a night, eyes glued to the ceiling, drowning in failure. As if there were someone out there glaring at their computer, dying to know what I had put at the Cross for that day.
It wasn't until my drive to work this morning that I felt the comfortable tug of my Friend. The One who comforts me beyond all understanding. He spoke so gently I had to turn my ear a little closer to make sure I heard the words of Truth.
You see, I place these unreasonable expectations on myself. And quite frankly, sometimes I don't even have the words to put here to describe what I am experiencing. Processing takes time, you know.
I am not so disillusioned to think that everyone is just dying to know what specific worry I let go of that day.
After all, worry is a much bigger thing than Diet Coke or sweets or Facebook. All of things that I have given up for Lent before.
Worry is much bigger. And deeper. And God is using this sacrifice during this Lenten season to show me how tight a grip this sin has had over my life. For way too long.
Truth be told, I've lingered at the Cross several days. One finger gently touching the worry that I laid down. Because after all, who has better control over it than me, right?! But isn't that the point? Isn't that the very reason God called me to let it go this season?
Worry has caused me to live a less-than life. A life less joyful. A life less full. A life less happy. A life less free.
Jesus came so that I could have life. And have it to the full. Full of joy. Full of happy. Full of freedom. Full. To the top and overflowing, full.
So, today, as I make my way to the Cross, I toss aside my expectations. The heavy weight of doom that I place on myself that has robbed me of joy for too long. It is here that I am reminded that His burden is light and easy, gentle and loving. It is in this exact place that grace pours forth so abundantly that I feel everything else wash away.
What expectations do you place on yourself that threaten to pull you under? How can you let go of those expectations and live more fully?
You can check out the other worries that I have laid at the Cross here: