About that white towel

A simple white towel … crumpled and laying on my Bible.

I sat there looking at it. I’m not sure what I expected to happen. I just had to do it. I threw in the towel, the white towel of surrender.

It lay there in a heap. That towel represented how I was feeling. I was a crumpled mess.

You see, I had tried for so long to “fix it” … to make it all better. The fight had been brutal, exhausting, and futile. I finally realized that the battle is not mine to fight, let alone win.

For so long, I had looked at the situation, examined its issues, and researched all the ways to fix the issue. You know what? It was not mine to fix.

I was exhausted. No matter what I did to figure it out and then execute a plan, I failed to make it better. I failed miserably.

Photo provided

Do I sound like a therapist? I’m not. I am just a lady who has been on this journey of life for over 60 years. The journey has been hard. The battles have brought me to exhaustion in every way possible. Mentally, physically, and emotionally. And yes, if the truth is told, spiritually.

I’ve sat along the side of broken roads not knowing which way to go. Every path I looked upon seemed to warn me of danger ahead. Dangers I never imagined facing.

I’ve watched those I love pass by me, walking into the forest of danger. I yelled. I grabbed. I prayed. I cried. They kept walking … towards the forest.

At times I’ve found myself forced into taking a detour to a place I never wanted to go. I pray I never have to go there again.

I’ve tasted the bitterness of hurt from those who smiled as they passed me the cup and said, “It will be different this time.” It wasn’t.

I’ve chased after those whom I wanted to like me and to save me a seat at their table. There was no chair for me.

Sometimes I have felt so many hurts that I thought, “Let me count the ways I can be hurt.”

I’ve asked God, “Could this hurt pass from me?” I heard in my heart, “Your hurt will help others. Be strong in me. I will make a way in the wilderness of hurt.”

I’ve told God time and time again what the best plan would be. It shouldn’t be that difficult for Him to make it happen. But … it was MY plan, not HIS.

“Be still, and know that I am God.” Psalm 46:10

“But God,” I argued.

“Be still.”

In the waiting, I simply must throw in the towel. I had held onto that towel with every last bit of strength I could muster. Finally, I realized it was not mine to hold. I had to relinquish control to God. He knows. He sees. His ways are higher than mine.

There lay the crumpled towel. Somewhere, in that crumpled heap, lay my heart. It was wrapped up in all the questions, doubts, concerns and hurt. The battle was not mine. It belonged to the Lord.

Love doesn’t give up. Sometimes, it just lets go.

And so, I wait and leave the towel alone.

Janet Hart Leonard can be contacted at janethartleonard@gmail.com or followed on Facebook or Instagram (@janethartleonard). Visit janethartleonard.com.