letting go - part 1

so there i was laying in my bed last night having trouble falling asleep. my mind was going 100 mph. i soon realized i was writing in my head. i couldn't stop writing and thinking about stuff i wanted to write. then it hit me: i haven't blogged in a decade. i have so much to say, and that's the reason i haven't blogged. so much has happened, it's almost like, where do i even start? but this morning, i was reading in my favorite new book, and i got inspired to focus today's blog on something very specific, and also very personal.

the theme: letting go

the time: hardest and best time of my life

the place: blogging from my living room couch

the problem: the bug guy just came and sprayed the inside so it smells and i'm getting a headache

the solution: keep blogging

thus, i've returned from the blogging dead. this blog series will be in parts because you would all go blind if you read everything at once. the following quote encapsulates pretty much everything i've been learning and going through since i last blogged.

"In my opinion there are three primary things that we have to let go of. First is the compulsion to be successful. Second is the compulsion to be right - even, and especially, to be theologically right. That's an ego trip, and because of this need churches have split in half, with both parties prisoners of their own egos. Finally there is the compulsion to be powerful, to have everything under control. I'm convinced that these are the three demons Jesus faced in the wilderness. And so long as we haven't looked these three demons in the face, we should presume that they're still in charge. The demons have to be called by name, clearly, concretely, and practically, spelling out just how imperious and self-righteous we are. This is the first lesson in the spirituality of subtraction." -- excerpt from "Simplicity" by Richard Rohr

so... that's what i've been up to (to answer many emails and inquiries) i have been looking these three demons, so to speak, in the face. and up til recently, those compulsions have been in charge.

first, some perspective and time-context:

i led worship on a women's retreat several months ago. since i lead worship for so many retreats, it's easy for me to see myself as someone who is there to serve and pour out, rather than be poured into. rarely do i go expecting to rest and retreat, like most of the other participants. but at this particular women's retreat with a group of amazing gals from the dallas area, nothing was business as usual. or should i say, ministry as usual. God was preparing me for something and this was the catalyst.

at the retreat, the resounding theme was "let go." it wasn't the theme of the retreat and no one necessarily spoke about it, but it was being spoken to my heart every second of every day. one night, i was on a panel where spontaneously i spoke about my deepest fears. my fears grew legs and started walking all over the room out of my mouth. i shared with these women (most of whom i didn't even know) about how my biggest fear was losing my ministry. i struggle so badly with trust. i'm not sure if i'll be able to eat tomorrow, even though God has provided food for me everyday for 27 years. i doubt if i'll be able to pay my mortgage, even though i've never gone one night without a roof over my head and a decent bed. i fear that i'll have nothing, even though my whole life i've had everything i needed. on this panel, sitting on an incredibly uncomfortable stool because my jeans were too tight, i divulged. directly following my flood of fears speech, a friend of mine said something so simple yet so powerful and life-changing.

she said that sometimes at the root of our deepest fears, we will find an idol.

whoa. wow. and ouch. it hit me all at once like a mallet. the root of my fear was my ministry. keyword being "my." had my ministry become an idol? had i finally fallen into that trap against which i have tried so desperately to protect? had i let my ego and self and flesh get in the way of humility, yet again?

yes. yes. and undeniably yes.

that night, everything changed for me. i realized everything had to change for me. i couldn't go back. i was on my face wallowing with conviction. i had allowed life to become about me. God was preparing me, in that moment, to let go. not just of something so small as "my" ministry, but to let go of my entire self. to let go of lindsey kane. to let go of my ambition, wants, needs, desires, fears, obsessions, anxieties, etc.

little did i know that God was going to take me into a season of letting go of everything. a season where lindsey kane ministries would be that seed that fell to the ground and died, so that new growth could begin. so that my heart could be changed. so that my pride and arrogance and self-righteousness would become extinct. or at least, that long arduous process would start. but i'm jumping ahead of myself.

what began that night continues to grow inside my heart each day. even now as i sit here typing, i can go back to that day and that place where i felt the sting of conviction. a friend of mine once said "it can't be all about God when it's still all about you." i never wanted it to be all about me, but for some reason, a little bit of self crept in. so, what began that night was a much needed death: death to self. that might, i became painfully aware of the first of the three things richard writes about in his book:

>>> i had given in to the compulsion to be successful <<<

thankfully, i have the Holy Spirit inside me who will stop at nothing to make me look more like Jesus. so there was a huge part of me that genuinely wanted God to get all the glory. i've wanted Him to be the focus of this ministry He's called me to. but oh the flesh - so strong. almost like that nagging fly that insists on landing on your food. always trying to get in the way. and it had. the fly had flown for far too long. it was time to raise the holy fly swatter and get to killing.

so that's part 1: the death of my compulsion and obsession with being successful. it seems i've been here before, oh say 200 times. but still, God in His kindness, continues tenderly to teach me this lesson.