Release your Grip

I flipped the TV on this morning and was greeted with images of cute little babies obeying commands written on posters and "experts" claiming that yes, you can teach babies to read! Oh my -- am I ever behind! Joshua is already five months and he eats more paper than he reads. Caleb is three and he still prefers to be read to and exhibits no interest in Shakespeare. Should I be concerned?

Despite my sarcasm, I do have to admit that I watched the infomercial long enough to hear that I can receive my first monthly trial shipment of training videos for only $14.95. For a few moments, I actually wondered if I am neglecting my parental duties (not to mention my role as an English teacher) by not pushing Caleb a bit harder -- after all, the advertisement claimed that "the earlier children learn to read, the better they perform in school and later in life. Early readers have more self-esteem and are more likely to stay in school."

Our society works awfully hard to make us feel like we are always behind -- just a hurried step or two from true fulfillment. As if fighting our human nature isn't enough, we also do battle with the world's messages that we need to do more, buy more, and work more to find success.

In his book, The Hurried Child, David Elkind makes the argument that our society pushes kids to grow up too fast. When Elkind refers to hurry, he isn't just talking about the day-to-day rush of being overscheduled, though that's part of it, but the pressure to do everything quicker -- such as toddlers learning to read, middle schoolers dressing like pop stars, and high schoolers practicing sports as if they are professionals.

I read about this concept of the hurried child just after watching the amazing reading babies, and couldn't help but think that at the core of this issue is a lack of trust. If we truly trust God to provide for our every need, if we rest securely in his love, why do we feel we have to prove ourselves so often? Why can't we let God be God? Why do we cling so tightly to the things of this world?

I used to brag that I worked best under pressure and enjoyed being busy. But I've come to realize that "busy" isn't an identity I want to embrace. Busy is just a disguise -- a way to make yourself feel important, to feel that you are justifying your place in this world. The reality is that God doesn't need me; I need God. When I run in circles, I'm basically saying, "I don't need you, Lord, I've got this covered." How dizzy we get when we chase after the world, rather than resting firmly in God's grip.

I have a sneaking suspicion that I'm not the only one who has to work on trusting enough to slow down -- trusting enough to say no, and trusting enough to allow God to determine my priorities.

A few years ago I was challenged to memorize this passage from the Jesus' Sermon on the Mount. And while these versus definitely teach us about clinging too tightly to earthly possessions, they also have much to say about our priorities in all areas of our lives.

Jesus preaches, "Do not store up for yourself treasures on earth, where moth and rust destroy, and where thieves break in and steal. But store up for yourselves treasures in heaven, where moth and rust do not destroy and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also." (Matthew 6:19-21)

When we recognize that everything we have is God's -- our time, our money, our talents, our lives -- we can keep from spinning in circles, making ourselves crazy. True contentment doesn't depend on what we do or what we have and hoard, but what we gain when we release our grip on the things of this world, and put our hand securely in God's.