When I was 13, I ate almost only cheese and crackers for the
entirety of a summer. Just cheese and
crackers.
Now significantly lactose intolerant, I find this bit of
personal trivia a little ironic and somewhat hilarious though completely
true.
I ate cheese and crackers.
For breakfast and lunch. And
dinner if I had a choice. I don’t
remember complaining about sitting down to normal food with the family at
dinner time so I must not have been a brat about it. I just remember eating a
lot of cheese and lot of crackers.
I was constantly making requests and my mother will attest
to the sheer volume of block cheese and boxes of crackers – both bought in
nearly every imaginable variety – she purchased on my behalf summer of
2001. (This also makes me believe I
wasn’t a brat about it – my mom never would have simply bought things because I
demanded it. Ever.)
It was the summer of a difficult move (and let’s be honest,
any move at 13 is a difficult one – although this one was particularly
unbolting for this particular teenager).
As near as I have been able to deduce and conclude in my time working
though pieces of my past, this was very much some subconscious way for me to
gain control over the world I felt was slipping. It was a coping mechanism.
When the summer ended and school started, I still brought
and ate cheese and crackers for lunch most days. But soon “cheese and crackers” faded. Probably as I became super obsessed with
homework and grades and the other things I know I held onto and fought for
fiercely in the absence of other pursuits; pieces of my life I felt like I had
control over. Whatever I felt I had the
most control over, I gripped onto the hardest.
Whatever pieces I felt the safest in or the pieces I felt defined me
most I would kick and scream to keep in the midst of life spinning out of
control...with other pieces slipping through my fingers.
The funniest part now is looking back at my “cheese and
crackers” and realizing the oddity of the choices I made. Whether it be this appetizer turned meal or
my educational endeavors or the fact I currently need my
socks/underwear/t-shirts to be in some sort of matching agreement at any given
time...or any of the other ‘control’ choices I’ve made...none of them have been
of substantial value. None of them
were/are life giving choices. You can’t
hear me laugh but I am, in fact, releasing, a moment of maniacal laughter to
consider how some of these pieces of life I held onto so vigorously just about
did me in. Some life!
My cheese and cracker memories came full circle for me this
weekend... You see, I was asked a few
months ago to prepare a message to give during summer camp. And, specifically, I was asked to speak on
the topic of surrender. To elementary
students. No easy task. For high schoolers or college kids? Sure! But 8-12 year olds? How does one communicate the depth of
surrender to student who just doesn’t cognitively process there yet?
I’ve been working diligently but with little fruit and so I
did what I’ve always done – I talked it over with my dad (a pastor). I mentioned a couple ideas and then noted how
one friend thought maybe I should take it from the angle that “surrender is
actually about trust”. My dad shook his
head and made his scrunched “thoughtful but confused” eyebrows and lip
curl. “No...” he said slowly. “That’s what I was thinking,” I said,
unintentionally cutting my him off. “I mean, it is but it’s not. Surrender, in my mind...” Our voices found the same moment of air and our
words came out in surprising unison: “...is about letting go.” Surrender, in the essence of what it is, is
about letting go...
With it came several thoughts for the message I intend to
give over the course of the summer and the pieces and parts for what it might
mean to communicate and challenge little folk towards “surrender”. But it also came with some pieces and parts
for me. Surrender is a good topic for
me. Perhaps because my life has demanded
so much of it...again and again and again.
I’m just not actually all that good at it.
Because, well, the thing about surrender – is letting
go. And it seems beneficial to note that
the things being held on to aren’t really that sustaining or life giving. It is
often just what we feel is “all we’ve got left” or, at the very least, the
thing we feel we have control over. “You
may be able to destroy everything else, but at the end of the day I still had
cheese and crackers for lunch!”
Well...good.for.me.
But surrender isn’t about being forced into a situation
where everything you have decided important is taken away. And it’s not a “letting loose”. Surrender is always voluntary and it is a
full release. True surrender...it’s a
life thing. A whole life thing.
I think part of me has always felt I could have Jesus and my
control issues too. “I will go ahead and
love Jesus and I will also have high anxiety when my socks don’t match my
shirt. That is fine.” I do in fact
realize how ridiculous this sounds but it truly does cause me anxiety and I am
well aware that I use it as a way to grasp hold of control. It’s not that Jesus isn’t going to see me
through my...deals. I am just also
realizing that for as long as I hold onto socks or cheese and crackers or any
number of other things, I’ve made them my idols, more important than God. And I am never actually trusting who Christ
wishes to be in my life. My number
one. My first thing. And so I never let go.
I have to surrender.
I have to let go. See, I can
surrender with trusting but I can’t trust without surrender. Surrender so often comes with so much fear
because there is no ability to trust that letting go won’t also cause one to
fall. Yet trust, within itself, is surrender. Because trust says I can let go because it’s
not about what I’m holding it’s about who has always been holding on to me...
“My help and glory are in God – granite-strength and
safe-harbor-God – So trust him absolutelyk people; lay your lives on the line
for him. God is a safe place to be.”
(Psalm 62:7-8 – MSG)
“That’s right,
Because I, your God, have a firm grip on you and I’m not letting go...” (Isaiah
41:13a – MSG).
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