We were looking for a rock.
Elle is my 6-year-old granddaughter and she’s become a rock collector. Yesterday we scouted around a tree to find rocks to add to her growing collection. She found a perfectly round rock and held it up in victory.
Elle had already filled my back pockets with rocks. She filled both of my hands. I didn’t have a place to put this large rock, so she pointed to my backpack. “Put it in there, okay?”
This morning I ran errands. My backpack cut into my shoulder. (I carry around a backpack rather than a purse. I’m so not girly.) I shifted it to the other shoulder. It didn’t take long for that arm to start hurting. I carried that backpack around for a long time — until it dawned on me.
The rock.
I laughed at myself when I pulled out the huge round rock, shaking my head. I had carried around that rock far longer than I should have.
At some point, moving forward is taking a good look at the burden we have been carrying. That may seem obvious, but the reality is that a lot of us are still carrying it years later. There are a lot of things that keep us from looking at it.
One (and what we are looking at today) is that we are blaming the source of that burden.
He did it.
She did it.
This happened and that event did it.
That’s your story and your story matters, but we can keep the focus on blame for years and still be as stuck as the day it happened. Blame keeps the limelight on the person or thing that caused it, rather than the giant “rock” we are carrying around.
[bctt tweet=”Pause the blame to name the pain, and start healing. #livingfreetogether https://wp.me/p4jbdw-49r” username=”suzanneeller”]
Pause the blame to name the pain
That thing happened. You can’t change it, but you can name it.
The pain I still carry is rejection.
The pain I still carry is insecurity.
The pain I still carry is feeling I have to be perfect/pretty/smart/witty/successful/a hard worker — (you fill in the blank) to be loved or accepted.
Acknowledge the price of the pain
Lord, I’ve been carrying around a rock of rejection. I’ve been so busy pointing to a circumstance or a person or even you, God, that I haven’t been able to move past it.
This burden has cut into my identity. It’s cut into my sense of self. It’s cut into my relationships. It’s cut into my view of who You are, God.
And I’m tired of carrying it around.
Release the pain
1. “Cast your burden on the Lord, and He shall sustain you; He shall never permit the righteous to be moved” (Psalm 55:22).
2. “Is this not the fast that I have chosen: To loose the bonds of wickedness, to undo the heavy burdens, to let the oppressed go free, and that you break every yoke?” (Isaiah 58:6).
3. “Come to Me, all you who labor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest. Take My yoke upon you and learn from Me, for I am gentle and lowly in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For My yoke is easy and My burden is light” (Matthew 11:28–30).
4. “For I, the Lord your God, will hold your right hand, saying to you, ‘Fear not, I will help you’” (Isaiah 41:13).
[bctt tweet=”The righteous cry out and the Lord hears. #livingfreetogether https://wp.me/p4jbdw-49r” username=”suzanneeller”]
5. “The righteous cry out, and the Lord hears, and delivers them out of all their troubles” (Psalm 34:17).
So, God, here it is. This is my stuff. It might not be my fault, but I’m the one still carrying it around. I’ve been pointing to everything else but my own heart and I’m ready to put this thing down.
Today.
Not tomorrow. Not when things change. Not when people change.
Thank you for offering to carry it for me. I’m letting go. In Jesus’ powerful name, amen.
Suzie
Day #19 of Moving Past What You Cannot Change
- Find a rock.
- Name the pain. Paint it on one side.
- Find the promise. Maybe it’s peace. Maybe it’s acceptance or unconditional love. Maybe it’s rest. Whatever it is, paint the promise in large letters on the other side of the rock. One side is a reminder of what God is carrying for you. The other side is who you are today because of His love.
Tonight at 7 p.m. we’ll have a rock painting party.
Bring your rock. Grab a bunch of friends and do it together. Post a pic online of your rock with the hashtag #livingfreetogether on Twitter or Facebook.
I’ll broadcast live at 7 p.m. CT on my Facebook ministry page. I’ll show you my rock and share a little of my story.
Post your comments in the Facebook page under the live broadcast. I’ll be reading every one of them! I look forward to seeing you there! ~ Suzie
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Great post, Suzie! You got me thinking about which rocks I need to remove from my backpack today.
I love this naming the pain and then finding the promise to overcome it. Thank you Suzie!
LOVE THIS! I have done the rock for years and display them on a stand in my bathroom, just a reminder of His faithfulness and where He’s led me.
My mom loves to paint rocks and they are works of art. All of us have at least one of her rocks in our gardens. I love that painting on a rock can be a permanent reminder of who God is.
Love this, Susie! The pain we carry around is only waiting on us to set it down. XO
Sometimes we have to put it down over and over again.
I never really thought about this before. Thank you!
My daughter is a rock collector! I actually moved rocks from one home to another this last year. Hahaha! I love the analogy of carrying heavy burdens just like big, heavy rocks. They weigh us down and have no usefulness. Thank you for the reminder. I realized I am carrying around some useless rocks. Time to lay they down!
We’ve collected rocks since we survived a tornado six years ago. The rocks helped my son as he started kindergarten just three months later with massive separation anxiety. We would hunt them, I would pray over them, kiss them, and then he’d take one to school in his pocket each day. When emotions arose, he could hold the rock and feel close to me. They became a source of strength for him, and for our whole family. Our house has random piles of rocks… on a side table… mantle… piano… all over!
Suzie, your word sparked a memory in me and made this whole adventure come to full circle for me. I read your post, and then was thinking about it later in the day. The word labor all of a sudden had a neon sign around it. I said aloud (alone in the car) “OH MY GOSH, YES!”
I’ve felt the need to work harder, smarter, stronger, more, nearly everyday of my life. Money has always been an issue, from being the oldest child in a poor family, to being in ministry and having an illness that limits my workload…. I’ve always tried to overdo it AND do everything for EVERYONE ELSE in the meantime. I’m a Fixer. A perfectionist. I want to do it all and be it all and be good at E.V.E.R.Y.T.H.I.N.G. It’s impossible because I am not GOD! Oh my, I would suck at being God, and there’s a reason for that… He created me to be ME, not HIM!
Someone one prophesied over me and said, “You are a travailor and a teacher.” I wanted to punch him in the face. How dare he tell me that my life was going to be full of intense labor and one hard time after another! But he was right. It was what it was. But the part that I needed to heed strongly was the “teacher” part. God called me to teach others from my travails, or labors (i.e.: hurts, wildernesses, storms, etc.). I’ve been given a call. But the part of that calling that I need to MOVE PAST is the part where I think I need to labor in every way, everyday, over everything. I’m carrying everyone’s burdens around, including all of my own from the past, present, and FOR THE LOVE, the future, and it’s time to drop that junk. It’s not for me to carry, is it?! Holy geez, it’s been heavy. I want to drop it so badly, but I think I’m scared. Who will I be without all of that weight? Who will I be when I just surrender to what He has for ME and when I let go of all the junk of yesterday? Will I still be appreciated? Will people still love me? Will they think I’ve abandoned them? Will I still be needed or wanted? Will I be forgotten? Will I have purpose???
I think the answer is Yes. I think I will become who He created me to be… even though I thought I already was.
Jesus, come close. Show me what to lay down, and show me how. I don’t want to carry what isn’t mine. Forgive me. Show me how to let go of the past that weighs me down so strongly, and give me the strength to just surrender and BE. In Jesus name.
Thank you, Suzie. Thank you so much.
It’s time for me to lay down my burden: my desire to be a Mother. It just isn’t meant to be. I misinterpreted scripture and believed that it could apply to my life. I was mistaken. I am almost 38 years old. For the past 7 years I have been praying for God to either open my womb and bless me with a child or remove the desire to be a Mother from my heart. He has remained completely silent all this time. My husband has a 14 year old daughter from his first marriage, so it doesn’t really matter to him if we have children or not. He’s got his pride and joy, and that’s all that matters. Who cares if I am miserable and empty? Adoption is not an option for us financially, and even if it was, he is vehemently opposed to “taking on someone else’s mistake ” as he calls it. I’m not certain if the problem really lies with infertility or if it’s because of a lack of intimacy. We are rarely intimate, sometimes several weeks pass with no intimacy. I don’t think that’s exactly conducive to trying for a baby. And this is his choice, not mine. He is the one withholding. He compares our failure at conception with the situation his daughter was conceived in. His ex-wife (who was 18 at the time) had been on the pill for 2 years. They decided to try for a baby, and a month after she stopped taking the pill, BOOM, she was pregnant. He believes the pill enhanced her fertility, and since my doctor won’t put me on the pill because of other health issues, he concludes that that’s the reason for my not conceiving. I have tried to educate him and explain to him that an 18 year old is much more fertile and more likely to become pregnant when she is intimate on a regular basis than a woman in her 30s who is intimate a few times a month at best. But he won’t listen. This evening, I tried to have a conversation with him about how I have been feeling. His response? “To be honest, it’s probably a good thing we didn’t have kids.” We live in a dilapidated fixer-upper that is far from finished. We couldn’t get any type of home improvement loan, so we are doing the work ourselves as time and money allows. No, it certainly isn’t an ideal home to bring a baby into. But we’ve only lived here 2 years and we’ve been married for almost 7. So, basically, from his statement and attitude, I gathered that he’s glad we haven’t been able to make a family. Even though he promised me a family before we were married. I love my husband, even though at times like this, I don’t know why. I don’t believe in divorce except in cases of infidelity or abuse. So I have to figure out how to let go of the desire to be a Mother. Because it is killing me. I apologize for the long post, and I apologize if what I posted was inappropriate. I’m just dying inside and I had to let it out. I have to figure out how to let go….
I love this illustration! It’s such a good visual of what we do sometimes, carrying around burdens that we should have left with the Lord long ago. Thanks for this, Suzie. Blessings.