St. Ignatius of Loyola notes that sin is the unwillingness to trust that what God wants is our deepest happiness.
At the core of my nature, a little girl has thrown countless temper tantrums, just as my three-year-old, Eden, does now. My inner child repeats and repeats: “I want my way, and I want it now. I know what’s best for me. I know what will make me the happiest. Give me what I want. It doesn’t matter what you think.”
And like the good parent that God is, He simply says, “Delight yourself in the Lord, and He will give you the desires of your heart” (Psalm 37:4).
Father wants me to delight, to find pleasure, joy, satisfaction and contentment—the true meaning of the word “Eden”—but to do so requires that I trust Him, that I trust He will be true to this promise.
David Benner writes, “The English word surrender carries the implication of putting one’s full weight on someone or something. It involves letting go—a release of effort, tension and fear. And it involves trust. One cannot let go of self-dependence and transfer dependence to someone else without trust.”
Back in February, Eden broke my two trusty silver chains that I interchanged daily, always wearing either a diamond cross or an abstract pendant that looks like a “family of four.” I felt the need to revert to an old necklace and chain until one or both of the others could be repaired or replaced. The necklace I chose was a piece given to me by my dear friend, Meg, the first year I moved to Georgia; it was made by her friend who was inspired with “visions” of jewelry pieces along with poetry from the Lord. This particular piece was called “Surrender,” also a little abstract at first glance, but you can eventually make out a person on their knees with their hands raised in worship. And it was the necklace that I wore nearly every day until Elianna was born, when I began to wear the “family of four” pendant instead.
Over these last few months, the idea of “surrender” has popped up several times, not any coincidence to me, as I know God orders my each and every step. Most recently, God has called me to surrender myself to this journey of the “70 in 7” and all that it entails. This has not been something I have easily accomplished or have even fully accomplished as yet. Leaving behind self-dependence, as Benner calls it, to transfer dependence to the Lord is not a whimsical, carefree act of immaturity—it is a well-considered, somewhat still reluctant choice of daily faith in an invisible love.
J.I. Packer writes, “We are afraid to go all the way in accepting the authority of God, because of our secret uncertainty as to His adequacy to look after us if we do.”
As the “70 in 7” Project has unfolded, God has continually given me more instructions, some of which I have been quick to obey, while others I have not. I still cling to and refuse to give up one thing in particular, all the while knowing already that God intends to replace it with “something better.” My uncertainty is no longer a secret. And yet, while I have followed His instructions thus far, He has proven His care in the results…
In April, the first full month of my “70 in 7” months, I posted 10 blog posts and lost 10 pounds. My first goal has been achieved! I celebrated this morning by rewarding myself with a full-body massage. I am so grateful for the immense support I have found in my blog readers, friends and family, and I thank you for continually coming back to read more about His faithfulness to me.
I’m sure you hope and pray along with me that I would continue to be faithful to Him, to His challenge, to His instructions, to His requests—to put my full weight, transfer my full dependence, go “all in”—by His strength, letting go of my own efforts and tension and fear. Because He is adequate to provide, lead, comfort, satisfy, in every possible way.
Because He wants my happiness more deeply than I do. Really.
So I move. Month 2. 10 more posts, 10 more pounds.
Let’s go.


Awesome Holly! Brings back such fond memories to read something of yours! You are an amazing talent and a bright light for his glory. Miss you dearly! Meg
Way to go!