A good friend of mine told me over coffee about a picture God had shown her.
The picture was of dozens of sets of cupped hands kind of scattered above and below each other. When God would give gifts, they would come down in the form of rain and the gifts would trickle from one set of hands to the next, then to the next, and so on.
If a set of hands closed, trapping the gift, the gift would lose its life and would deprive the next person of receiving the gift as well.
But if hands were left open, the rain would stay until it was overflowing, giving to all the hands below until they were overflowing, all the while, still receiving from the overflowing hands above.
When she said this, I felt like I’d literally been hit in the stomach.
Not only because I have learned the hard way that holding on too tightly to gifts can suffocate them, but also because it made me realize I was also closing my hands over resistance to the Race in general and the way my life has been the past five years. I refused to let out any resistance to the race, and I definitely wasn’t going to let in single a drop of acceptance about leaving the community and ministry that I adore–that would just be too scary and difficult to handle.
So even though I felt I’d already processed leaving my community, I’m learning that numbly saying goodbye to lots of people I love doesn’t count as grieving and definitely doesn’t count as opening my hands for the new gifts God has for me. I feel things too deeply for that to cover it.
So I cried. I cried and thanked God for every single friendship, ministry, memory, truth, struggle, and victory that I’ve experienced the past 5 years.
And then God helped me open my hands.
He helped me open my hands to receive every friendship, ministry, truth, memory, struggle, and victory He has for me this next year. And the year after that and the year after that…
My hands are wide open and I’m ready.
(Which is good because I leave in 6 days!)
