I find it difficult not to write about experiences. That seems the most realistic way for me to relate to people. If I can sit down and read about an experience someone else has had, and immediately relate it back to something in my own life, that’s the fastest way to feel a connection. I can feel their mind analyzing the situation, trying to make the best decision. I can feel their emotions—worried, joyful, anxious, elated. If I can relate to the experience, I can relate to them on a level that brings understanding and confidence. I say all that to say that I feel like almost everyone can relate to an experience I had about a year ago. An experience that taught me to be still.
I write a lot about relationships. If you know me well, you know I talk about them a lot too. I put a lot into relationships. That’s just me. And I don’t do well when they start to fall apart. But, inevitably, a few of them will do just that (yeah, I’m 22 years old and still struggling to grasp the concept that not everyone wants to be my best friend forever). Long story short, I was struggling—hard—with how to deal with the situation I was in. Here’s where I hope a few of you can relate.
I felt hurt.
I felt angry.
I felt helpless, betrayed, and taken advantage of.
Been there? Yup, I thought so.
This wasn’t a petty argument or difference of opinions. This was a friendship-ending, end of the road, no turning back type of deal. And I wanted to do what sometimes I feel like I do best. I wanted to fix it. Until I finally reached the realization that I didn’t know how. That was the reality of where I was. I didn’t know what to do, or what to say, or how to say it. And it was driving me insane. It hurt and made me feel even more helpless. So I confided in a close, Godly friend who asked if she could pray for me and over my situation. At the end of that prayer she squeezed my hand tight and spoke the words of Exodus 14:14.
“The Lord will fight for you; you need only to be still.”
And that was it. That was my answer. My “fix” that I had been looking for. In my deep and stubborn desire to want to solve this problem and heal this relationship on my own, I had overlooked my need.
I needed to be still.
I needed to take a step back. And, for once, willingly let something be out of my hands. Out of my control. I needed to trust that the Lord saw me in my situation and saw the other individual in it with me, and He wasn’t caught off guard by it. I needed to open my eyes to the fact that as desperately as I wanted to save this friendship, ultimately the Lord was in control of who was in my life and who wasn’t. I needed to let go. I needed to let Him fight this battle for me. And I needed to be still.
I’m not a still person (I’m assuming a lot of y’all can relate to that too). I’m always on the go and I like it that way. But it’s for that very reason that I’m in a constant state of needing to be reminded of this experience. That regardless of the situation, the hurt, the overwhelming desire to fix things on my own, I don’t have to, and I shouldn’t. I have a Lord, a Savoir, a Mighty Warrior and Redeemer who is begging me to let Him fight for me. He’s commanding that I be still.