All it takes is letting go

 

I suspect that all of us at one time or another have experienced a rampant, burning desire:  It might be out-of-control sexual desire like King David's [2 Samuel 11:1-17], or it might be wanting that new car or house, or that job title, or to win that huge lottery jackpot.  I’d bet that most of us know what it’s like to be driven away from God by appetite, by lust.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned as I get older, it’s that evil is subtle and sneaky.  Not much gets in the way, and almost any means seems appropriate, when we're overcome by self-will run riot.  David even resorted to murder!  Instead of being horrified by his own thought of setting up the killing of Uriah, David was methodical—to David, his actions in the moment probably seemed quite rational.

But thanks to God through the prophet Nathan, David was confronted, realized the enormity of his sin, repented and suffered consequences [2 Samuel 12].  Of course, he wasn’t the only one who suffered.  There were also a number of innocent people who were hurt as a result of David's actions.

About the only force that can set things right in such a situation is the love of God.  The older I get, the more I realize that we just can't do much of anything worthwhile without God.  That’s why we pray to Him to create in us clean hearts [Psalm 51:12].  Sometimes, driving around town or waiting in a line somewhere, I'll experience a fleeting sense of what it must be like to have a clean heart.  There’s a letting-go, a sense that I could, if I wanted it enough, "just give the world a break."  It means letting go of every resentment.  It includes everyone:  Everyone who has hurt me, betrayed me, discounted me . . . EVERYONE.  Sadly, this "letting-go" is gone as quickly as it came, but the memory persists.  I believe the source of such experiences is God.  It doesn’t come about as a result of anything I've done, I'm certain.

I wonder if that fleeting experience is like the mustard seed in Mark’s Gospel [Mark 4:26-34].  Could it be that what I ought to do is hold on to the memory of the moment of letting go, and nurture it?  Could it be that I might even have a desire for a clean heart that is as drivingly powerful as my desire for the things of the world?  I guess one could call it lust for God's grace.  Might I someday experience that?

All I can do is sincerely ask God to plant the seed in my heart.  Just the tiniest grain of desire in that direction might grow into a great wondrous thing.  Maybe all it takes is a little letting go.