Ava received this delightful CD for her birthday called “You Are My Little Bird.” Accompanied by a acoustic guitar, Elizabeth Mitchell and her daughter sing a round sweet songs about birds. Since Ava’s name means bird, the CD quickly became the number request from the backseat.
One afternoon last summer I was driving to some unknown necessary destination and Ava was adding her harmony to Bob Marley’s tune. That day as the high summer rays mingled with the slow Marley rhythms, I heard the message of the three little birds. It reminded me of another verse–
Therefore I tell you, do not be anxious about your life…. Look at the birds of the air: they neither so nor reap nor gather in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? –Matthew 6:25a, 26
We were in the sweep of many life changes and unanswered questions. Should try to sell our house? Where should we move? In what sort of neighborhood will we raise our family? How will that effect Ava’s schooling options? What kind of vehicle should replace Nate’s dead car with? What is our family portrait going to look like? Oh, what is it going to look like?
Worry was my morning tea.
So many decisions hinge on other decisions, and there have been so many times this year when I have felt completely stuck. If only I knew how “A” was going to turn out, I could decide what to do about “B” and “C”. It’s hard to live in the in between, the space between the Q and the A.
This year has been a lesson in letting go. I have an ideal answer for every one of those questions and more. I know how I want everything to turn out. And it’s hard not to believe that my ideal is “how everything will be alright.” Yet the longer those question marks hang on the end of those phrases the farther away my ideal floats.
What do you cling to then?
Marley was close, but he missed the how and who.
If I close my fist around my answers all I’m truly holding onto is anxiety. I cannot will the world to be my way. The harder I try the more anxious I become.
And through it all I hear the Lord, the great comforter and giver all good gifts calling me to open my hand and surrender these questions to him.
“Let this go, Rachel. Trust me.”
“But I’m not sure I like your plan. I think I like mine better.”
“I love you. Trust me.”
“But this doesn’t feel like good gifts.”
“Trust me.”
Even as I surrender these things, it surprises me how often I have to do it. Some days I trust in his goodness. Some days I’m overcome by the images of my ideal. Slowly I’m learning to turn over those pictures to the One whose big picture is best.
I want to rise with Ava in the morning and sing a melody pure and true.
Jesus is the who and the how. Because of him every little thing is going to be alright.
And he does give good gifts, just look at my little bird.