At the time this letter was written you were at work drinking your second cup of tea attempting to get motivated. Shame on you. A lot of things are going on right now. You and Nathan are helping plant a church. You’re gathering with a bunch of rag-tag misfits who have no idea what this looks like. You have a job you love and a community of brothers and sisters spread far and wide who support and love you.
However, I’ve noticed lately that you are gripping pretty tight. Your desire to control every circumstance of your life is inhibiting you from experiencing some of our Savior’s greatest gifts. I know you don’t take kindly to unsolicited advice but hear me when I say, “knock it off” you’re really cramping our style. You have so much to be thankful for. You and Nathan have jobs which allow you the financial freedom to have a warm home and running cars and plenty of delicious food on the table. Who cares if you can’t go on the trip you wanted to because something had to be repaired? Comparatively speaking you have nothing to complain about.
I don’t know where you’ll be when you read this again. Maybe it will be tomorrow or maybe it will be 5 years from now. When you do please, please remember these things. Don’t forget what surrender looks like. Don’t forget what it looked like on that clear spring day in your dorm room. Don’t forget what it looked like on the foggy drive home from camp, or August 1, 2008. Please don’t forget what it looked like this morning when you remembered what Christ can do with a broken spirit and a contrite heart. Remember His faithfulness in commissioning a group of people without a clue to do immeasurably more than anything you could have imagined. Remember the people He has used to crush you and remember the ones He sent to help restore. There may be time in which you are called to one or both of those positions, be diligent in either role. Fight the urge to view any insecurity you might be feeling as bigger than what you know to be true. Fight the urge to control everything, and surrender. You are not your own. Remember that.