A Stain

I’m sitting here on the floor in my living room staring at my new couch of fewer than six months and looking at the stain that I tried to blot away on my own. I used four different types of cleaner and the stain has gotten darker and bigger with each attempt – the stain started out as a speck. But I tried to tend to it on my own and fix it – making it worse.

Instead of filing a claim right away. Now I’m sitting here with some sort of peace, because I filed a claim and now it’s out of my hands, I’ve done all I can and I’m leaving it in other people’s hands. But that got me thinking a lot about the metaphorical stains I try to deal with on my body, in my soul, my heart, and my mind. I try to tend to them and take control but the stains keep getting bigger, and bigger…what was once not noticeable is now screaming at me.

Because I try to be the perfect human and take the power back in my life, but the one missing is the most important, the one in which I can file a claim and can trust He will take care of it in whatever fashion He sees fit. That perfect peace of knowing that it’s not always up to me, it’s not always based on what I feel and think, that my prayers of petition can be heard and that He will provide and I will be okay – no matter what.

Maybe the stain will be there still on my couch, but unlike my couch, I know that He has cleared the stains; the sins with His blood in me.

Earthly possessions and earthly problems have no hold on me. I’ve been set free.

My therapist asked me what lesson I can learn from the things I cannot change after I told him how bothered I was by the stain on the couch, and I couldn’t possibly think what lesson I could learn from a stupid stain. But here I am, in a puddle of my own tears because it’s the biggest lesson one can learn. One I am learning over and over again.

Releasing the control; the grip we have on life and just letting Christ be who He always says He is.

Comforter. Healer. Redeemer.