During my cancer treatment, I started getting massages on a weekly basis. There is something about the power of touch that was so peaceful and healing. The aging process has brought a long list of aches and pains and so I have returned to massage. I don't like those soft Swedish rubs, I want someone to get in there and work out those knots. Yesterday, I was met by a soft spoken masseuse that quickly explained to me that his method might be a little unconventional but that I needed to trust him. As I lay face down on the table, I wondered if I should apologize for the fact that I had not been to the gym for about a year? Should I mention that I was running late this morning and forgot to run a razor over my legs? Where do I even begin with these arms? Did he read my file? Does he know about my surgeries? My scars? I should have taken a chill pill before my relaxing massage.
I would have to draw diagrams for you to grasp the crazy things that occurred inside that dimly lit room. My legs were stretched to my shoulders and at one point I soared like an eagle with my back arched and arms overhead. There is no way the sheet was covering everything that it should during these elaborate contortions! Through it all, Jorge (that was his name), kept whispering to me, "Relax and let go." About halfway through the hour, I realized he was a professional and knew what he was doing and so... I LET GO. My breathing slowed, my muscles went slack, and for a few precious moments I felt free.
As I bow before the throne of my king, I feel so unworthy. Like a petulant child, I want to make excuses for my disobedience. I play games with God and plan to show Him only the good inside of me and keep the rest hidden from view. And then I hear God whisper, "Trust Me. Relax. Let go." God sees all. Jesus died for my sins and I am washed clean. I am worthy. I am loved. I am forgiven. I know all these truths, but I continue to hold tightly to the dirty, rotten, sinful, painful, and negative parts of life. I stay trapped in a cage of my own making. For me, letting go is not some beautiful process where I stand on a mountain side and release a thousand butterflies signifying my transformation. Letting go is a daily, dirty struggle. I chose trust over fear. I hug forgiveness and release bitterness. I grab life over death. There is only one thing that I refuse to let go of during my walk here on earth...Jesus. And that is all I really need.
