“If we hitch our ability to find peace to choices [the organization] may not ever make, we are in essence saying they get to control how we live from now on. They don’t deserve that kind of power over you. What if you and I decided that enough has been taken from us? What might improve about your life and mine if we decided to accept the serenity that comes with moving on?”- Lysa TerKeurst
“Who may ascend the mountain of the LORD? Who may stand in his holy place? The one who has clean hands and a pure heart.”- Psalm 24:3-4 (NIV)
Lysa TerKeurst concludes her Bonus Chapter of I Want to Trust You, but I Don’t as she observes what makes organizational hurt so challenging. It appears to us that people within that group move on without skipping a beat. While we desperately struggle. In addition, we express the fervent with that those people own what they did and also make it right. Because we want our world to tilt back into place. And we want a sense of redemption.
Certainly, the organization in question broke our trust. But, Lysa counsels, their actions shouldn’t mean they broke us. Rather, we must hold fast to the belief that we’re full, beautiful expressions of ourselves and what God made us to be. There’s no reason to cede that kind of power to the people and groups that already caused us pain.
Therefore, Lysa encourages:
“Whatever other people sowed in their lives is what they will reap. Whatever they tried to sow into your life is not what you will reap, unless you decide to take the bad seeds and plant them into your own heart and mind. . . . We must make the choice not to plant the seeds of unresolved hurt.”
In conclusion, Lysa states, the goodness we sow serves as a gift to others. Yet, it also represents a gift to ourselves. Because, despite what others have done to us, we possess the sweet serenity God gives to those with clean hands and a pure heart.
Today’s question: What Bible verses bring you the serenity that comes with moving on? Please share.
Tomorrow’s blog: the annotated bibliography of I Want to Trust You, but I Don’t