Let Go...and Let God

Let Go...and Let God

After a very unique vacation, I was invited to share my testimony at one of the churches in NW Louisiana. The church was celebrating its annual homecoming service. Immediately, I answered, "Sure." Later, I asked, "What have I gotten myself into this time?"

After I obligated myself to such an assignment, I began to feel fear. Real fear...worse than the fear that I had experienced when I was in the little war-torn country of Kuwait during the Iraqi invasion. I almost decided that I couldn't do it. I had taught a Sunday School class for many years. That hadn't been so bad, since I was able to cheat a little with the help of a teacher's manual. But I had never spoken in public before. That scared me half to death. Even more dreadful than that, I wouldn't have a manual to lean on.

I asked a friend for help. I told him I had been asked to make a speech, and I didn't know what to do. He began by telling me, "First of all, don't call it a speech...call it a 'talk.'" He added, I've only known you a short while, but I've never known you to be one with little to talk about." (OUCH!) He continued, "Second, you've had an interesting experience--one that people want to hear about. Third, and most importantly; pray...ask God to give you the words that He wants you to say."

That sounded fair enough. The Lord had never let me down, and I prayed earnestly, that He wouldn't this time, either. After all, He had protected us during our stay in Kuwait. Surely, He would get me through this 'talk.'

Each day drew closer to the homecoming. I hadn't made any notes or outlines for the occasion. I was trusting in the Lord. I didn't need notes, I'd had the real life experience. It would be easy talking about something in which I was very familiar. I could do it! I knew I could do it!

On the evening before the big day, I decided that I should make a few notes--just a little something to keep everything in order. I had a lot to share, but time wouldn't allow everything. I needed to organize my thoughts, or else I would drift off to other events without completing any one of them.

I worked most of the night on my notes. I typed, read, re-read, corrected, re-typed, and prayed--in that order. I was finally ready to lay my 'talk' to rest.

On the big day, I was prepared and confident. ("Lord, you did a good job.") On my drive to the church, I rehearsed. I felt sure that everything was going to be just fine. As I drove into the parking lot, I couldn't find a place to park; there were so many cars. I began thinking that at least two or three people rode in each car. If the cars were any indication of the number of people there, the sanctuary must be packed. I became terrified.

I had become so worried about what I was going to say that I had forgotten that so many people were going to be there. When I managed to find the car door handle, I opened the door and proceeded to get out of the car. When my feet touched the pavement of the parking lot, my legs felt, not like jello, but jello pudding. (Lord! Where did You go?")

Rhonda, the lady who had gotten me in this mess in the first place, and my best friend, Betty--who wasn't totally innocent, either--waited for me at the front door of the church. I don't remember walking at all. I 'jiggled'...just like jello. I had the urge to turn around, get back into my car, and go home.

Rhonda sensed my feelings, so she suggested that we find a quite place to pray. I didn't want to pray. That was the last thing I wanted to do. I wanted to go home and forget all about this most horrid event. She and Betty led me to a small, empty Sunday School classroom. Together we formed a circle and joined hands. My entire body was trembling so much that when we joined hands, their bodies must have begun to shake, also.

Rhonda prayed first, then Betty. My trembling began to slowly subside. When my turn came to pray, I told the Lord that I was literally, scared to death, and asked Him to please take away the fear. I suddenly realized that I was trying to do everything by myself, and in my own power. I remembered my friends advise, "...ask God to give you all the words that He wants you to say." The entire purpose of my being there was to exalt Him and to share with others how He had answered prayer.

That day, I--let go...and let God--have His way. I realized that I could do nothing, but He could do everything! I finally felt His presence as I stopped trembling completely. I boldly walked out of that classroom knowing the talk that I was about to present was only my voice being used as an instrument for His work.

The following pages were intended to be the testimony I had planned to share. I honestly couldn't recall anything that I said that day during the service, but the words came freely, easily, and without fear. I realized, however, that the events that had occurred to me and my family in Kuwait were not important. Indeed, the miracles that God performed were.