My One Word

Relinquish
© jb katke

 

Never would I have imagined it so life changing.

My One Word is an alternative to a New Year’s resolution.  It’s a Bible Study, but only sort of. You begin by asking Jesus for a single word that would focus on a lasting change for your life.  Search the Bible for verses that allude to that word and what he wants you learn from it. What makes it so doable is, it’s just one word/one change.

January has begun, but it’s not too late for you to dive in.

The word that surfaced for me was ‘relinquish.’ I had considered other words, ‘submit’ and ‘surrender.’ But they didn’t lead me to where Jesus was having me focus.  Submit was something I already do with my husband.  Surrender, to me, means giving up.  Relinquish, on the other hand, means to willfully release.

That is an ongoing process in my life.

Over time it’s taken on differing forms. My first wrestling match was selling my brass bed.  We were down-sizing.  I was the only one who liked it and my family couldn’t understand why I loved it so much.  At the time I couldn’t put words to it, but I can now. That dumb bed was one of the few things in our home that reflected my decorating taste. Tears flowed.

Sometime later I had cataract surgery. I was convinced I’d end up blind. Relinquishing sight, when you are a quilter and supposedly writing a God-ordained book, this just cannot be. Fear reigned. Needlessly. Isn’t that true of so many of our fears? They never come to be.

Selling my grandmother’s enamel kitchen table was another opportunity to relinquish.  As a child, my memories recalled me sitting on a step stool eating her raisin bread, picking out the raisins, eating the frosting on top and leaving the bread.  Yes, I was chastised. But it did no good.

We sold it to a young family that was thrilled to get it. Their home is all vintage thirties, all they were missing was an enamel table. It continues to be cherished, but not at my house.

I come from a family of savers.  When my dad was moving he divided up his collection of dried up paintbrushes between my husband and brother. Our allotment helped fill the trash bin.

Generations before me collected a vast amount of possibly useful things. Upon going through my aunt’s estate after her death, we came across an envelope.  Written on it was, ‘For poverty living.’ Inside it was a large needle and a six-inch string. One can expect that thinking when you have survived a depression.

Moving their stuff out of my way was forever driving me nuts.  Keep in mind, they had all passed away. This was only perpetuating the pack-rat lifestyle I hated.

This is my history. Mental battles run rampant as I dispose of what my ancestors diligently spent their lifetime saving.  Just in case.  My daughter is helping me let go, I mean relinquish.

But to dispose of something……what if sometime down the road I might need it?

I keep reminding myself none of it will be coming with me to my eternal home. By then, there will be no need!

The Questionable Gift

Gift

The following story is fiction. Or maybe not.

Chads dad reached across the vast table to hand him his gift. Instead, Chad just looked at the package.

Time stood still.

Could this be what he had been longing for all his life? Chad kept his wishes to himself. Only because he was always modifying what he was hoping for.

Could dad automatically know what I want? What I despearately need and can’t find the words to express?

His hearts desire was based upon his mood so there was no telling if this package held it.

Should he take it? Accepting this gift had the potential to make or break his heart. He felt his whole future would forever be impacted. Was it worth the risk?

Chads mind drifted off to a million different disappointments.

What about your promise? Dad was going to give us the vacation of a lifetime, then mom got sick, squelching our plans. She died. Not one for goodbyes, her last words to me, “I’ll see ya later.” Did she know something I didn’t? I miss her so much ‘cuz she made up for the lack of dad.

Chads dad was a professor with many of his teaching assignments worldwide. He explained that it was a benefit to the students for him to go to them, because they weren’t able to come to him. Yeah, whatever.

I know he loves me. He was forever sending little gifts to let me know he was thinking of me. Some of them were neat, but others made me wonder what he was thinking. Like what was up with the book on American Indians? He knows I’m not into books. Besides its history, who cares what life was like back then? This is now.

Chads head swirled with what ifs…?

His dad set the gift in front of him. He had to deal with it. Others were watching, waiting for his response. The pressure was intense.

Taking a closer look at the package, Chad recognized the wrap. He’d seen it before.

Good old mom, waste not want not, seemed to be her theme in life.

Why dispose of perfectly good wrapping paper that can be reused at a later time.

The time was now. Seizing the moment he took the gift. Being incredibly right is a weird feeling, it did change life as he knew it.

This scene is played out on a daily basis. Different people in various places, even the circumstances aren’t the same. But the same gift of accepting Jesus’ love is offered time and again.

We all know love expressed comes in many forms, but a healthy love always wants what is best and there is nothing’ bester’ than Jesus’ love.

Chad hit the nail on the head, his choice did affect the future, not just in the here and now, but for all eternity. I believe people are watching, both from above and the ones around us.

By the way, the change in us is for the better. The Good Book gets dusted off, language is tidied up, behavior upgrades, and the rewards are supersized beyond imagination.

Life cerealRemember the commercial from long ago for the new Life cereal? Siblings place the cereal in front of Mikey to try, and he liked it!

This life is new, but Mikey and Chad liked it and you will too.