Losing Control

"If any would come after me, they must deny themselves, take up their cross daily and follow me."
Mark 8:34

In my last post I talked about fear. Specifically I talked about letting go of that fear to find peace. I think this verse fits that concept perfectly.
I, like many, have spent a lot of time focusing on the second part of this verse, the "pick up your cross" part. But that's not the part that stood out to me the other day. For the first time, my eyes were drawn to "deny yourself," and I began thinking about what exactly that looks like. At first, I thought of what I described in In the Face Of Fear, about how we must turn our fear over to Jesus. But how exactly does that go hand in hand with denying ourselves?

Fear comes from a lot of things. We fear change, we fear death, we fear loss, but largely I think a lot of fear comes from feeling like we no longer have control. Fear comes when something big is happening, something that could mean we have to change the way we live, act, or view the world. Fear comes when something happens that we really have no power to change. So, by surrendering that fear, we are denying ourselves in a sense.
But denying ourselves goes deeper than that. It's not just admitting to God we're afraid so He can eradicate that fear. It's denying ourselves the right we think we have to hang onto any negative and destructive habits and mindsets that we continue to cling to. Things like worry, doubt, anger, and judgment. But really all four of those boil down to fear--fear for ourselves, our loved ones, our comfort. But mostly we fear our loss of control. A dear friend of mine recently put it this way, "Fear makes us choose the easy route, the predictable route. But fear is never a solid foundation. Fear only breeds more fear. We think we're in control until the inevitable storms tear the notion from our hands and we discover we have absolutely no control. Hence, more fear."
When we deny ourselves, we say no to our desire to control our situation and give it back over to the only One who has control in the first place.

Recently I got to first hand experience what denying yourself is really like when God convicted me of holding onto something I knew wasn't mine.
You see, my boyfriend has been going through some health issues recently, and I have this bad habit of taking the pain of others onto myself. I mean, don't get me wrong, being able to empathize or even just sympathize with others is great, but I've always been good at taking everything a step farther than needed. I end up worrying and stressing over a problem in another's life as if it were my own problem. I would work myself into these knots where I could no longer feel God's presence, even though I knew He was there.
Now these aren't life threatening health issues or anything like that, just something that will require him to change the way he does certain things and even maybe give up some stuff neither of us expected he would have to quit this soon. Regardless of whether it's life threatening or not, I know how much pain he's in physically, as well as emotionally and spiritually, I can imagine. Having to face changes like this is never easy, and while I should be trying to offer some peace to him during this, I found myself as threatened by the storm as he was.

It was on a Sunday morning shortly after this all began that God brought to mind a prayer I had said several months before when facing something else that was out of my control.
"Lord," I had said. "I don't really know what to do with this situation, and there's not really anything I can do, so I'm sorry for trying to take over. You're in control, I know you are. So, here, you can have him back. Thanks for letting me have him in my life, but he's not mine anyways. So you do your thing, and if you would still have me be a part of this plan of yours, I would very much like to see how it unfolds."
Sitting there remembering that prayer, I gave this heavy sigh and said, "I know I've said this already, but I'm holding on again, and I shouldn't be because he's not mine anyway. Thanks for letting me borrow him for a while, but ultimately he is yours, and you know what you're doing. So here, you can have him back."

It wasn't until I denied my flesh the right it thought it had to worry and stress over what to do with this storm was I able to understand what to do with my situation. It's truly amazing how the Spirit works, bringing not only the fruit of the Spirit with which you longed for, peace in my case, but also those that will go hand in hand it help you face what is up ahead. For with the peace came a joy that made the clouds less scary and a courage to face the next road blocks.Also came patience to wait out this storm no matter how long it would take and strength to allow the one who's facing the storm to lean on me whenever he has trouble seeing Jesus, who I lean on, at the stern of the boat.
But along with equipping you, the Spirit also brings this inexplicable level of understanding. For when my peace came, so also came this understanding that though I may not know how long this will take or how painful it may be, we would come out of it and there would be something awesome at the end. I knew it like I knew I still breathed, like I knew the earth was still turning and my heart still beating. How I knew, I don't know, but I can't shake this knowing that goes beyond my understanding. Something good is coming, even if we can't see it yet.

But the same way we cannot ignore the first part of Mark 8:34, we shouldn't ignore the other half to focus on it. "Take up your cross daily and follow me."
Daily we must practice this denying our desire for control to follow the only One who knew true peace. Do not get discouraged when you find you've picked back up fears and insecurities that you've already surrendered in the past. Instead, keep in mind a prayer my sister shared with me several years back when she was facing her own storms and fighting her own demons, "I'm sorry, Lord, that I have picked back up what I already laid at your cross."
It is never too late to turn to the Lord and release the white-knuckled hold you have on your need to control that which is out of your grasp.

In the Face Of Fear

"Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?"

Maybe it's just me, but these sound like fighting words. I've never really liked when people tell me I have no reason to feel the way I do about something, whether that be scared, excited, hurt, or something else entirely. I also would feel a little embarrassed and maybe a little put off if someone asked why I have so little faith. Both questions together just seem a little too uncomfortable and offensive for my liking.
Then how come, coming from Jesus, they bring such comfort?

In my last post, When Storms Come Raging, I talked more about the passage in which these questions can be found (Mark 4). This passage tells of how Jesus calmed the disciples' fears with only a few words in the face of an overwhelming storm. While this is a great story about Jesus calming a literal storm, it is sometimes hard to transfer the meaning behind stories to our day to day lives.
How exactly do we find peace amidst the storms of our lives?

In the last year, I have heard a lot of speakers, authors, and pastors talk on the topic of forgiveness and letting go of fear (two things that definitely should happen if you are to have true peace in your life). Since this is all about storms, and storms often bring an extra large helping of fear to the table, the thought seemed very fitting.
I can't remember who was speaking, all I remember is they said that the only way to conquer fear is to not allow it to rule over you. Meaning, do not dwell on fear. A Graham Cooke quote I heard recently perfectly explains how this works. He says, "Take your eyes off the negative and you will disempower it." Anything you focus on, anything you dwell on, you give power to. You allow it to rule a part of your life and consciousness.
The speaker continued by saying that you can't ignore the fear either, because that creates pain where it does not need to be. For the fear will not just go away, it will linger beneath the surface and make you feel like there is something wrong with you for having that fear. And that shame will keep you from actually facing and eradicating it once and for all.
So then what do we do?
As he instructed, and I have implemented on more than one occasion, we must look our fear straight in the face. We must recognize that it is there, but not dwell on it or allow ourselves to slip into a pit of self-pity. Then we must turn to God in prayer and say, "I am afraid."

Believe me, I thought it sounded silly too, the first time I heard it. But it's just like what the disciples did in that boat. They turned to Jesus and said, "Lord, I am afraid."
I have had several chances to do this since hearing that speaker, and each time it was one of the most freeing things I could have done. There was something about recognizing my fear, not bottling it inside, and actually turning it over simply with no complicated prayers or formulas, just saying, "I am afraid," that lifted this huge weight off my shoulders. And that's because I could almost hear Him saying to me, "Why are you so afraid? Do you still have no faith?"
The words don't come in a condescending or condemning way, but gently, as a father comforts a child who is scared of the dark. It is in those words that you know you really have nothing to fear. And the warmth and peace that comes from that has always been overwhelming enough to keep me in tears long after the fear filled ones have ceased.

Trust me, I know it sounds too simple to work that way. In all honesty, I was a little uncertain about it the first time I tried it. But I was scared and I was desperate and I was tired of feeling that way. But I can also tell you where that uncertainty came from.
I, like many, have trouble seeing God in the midst of the storm. When urgent or life altering matters press heavily on your mind, it's easy to forget He's there.

I think the biggest thing overlooked in the story of Jesus calming the storm is that He was there the whole time. He had never once left them alone to face the storm by themselves, but was sitting in the very same boat they were worried was about to capsize. It wasn't until they turned to Him with their fear and called on His name did He calm the storm.
He hasn't left you, but so long as you continue to cling to your fear and your need to be in control, He can't do much to calm the storms raging inside of you.