O God, my God, You are my God. Thank You for opening my eyes to receive You, and thank You, in advance, for retreiving others now filled with rage. Is it the rage of the unregenerate, under which I also once suffered? I suffered from it mightily, and for years and years, until I realized that You are God, and I am not.
Yesterday at a recovery meeting, someone shared about having a God Box for written notes: sometimes just a name or a phrase of whatever needs to be given to God. With this practice, I strongly identify, but for me, it’s a tall can and not a box. I call it my God Can. To be honest, I don’t want to put God in a box!
Whatever the container’s size or shape, there is is something to be said for the physicality of handing things over to God and leaving them under the lid (so to speak). I might put the same note in, day after day, but I only look when the can gets full, and I need to make room for more notes. That can take a long time! So… when I empty it, I am amazed to see what has transpired since the scribbled note went in, under the lid (so to speak). Though the outcomes are often not what I had envisioned, they provide evidence that encourages me not force the forsythia (so to speak).
Chime in if you care to share about “Let Go and Let God.” FYI, this photograph was posted on Twitter by Land of Cuteness.