The ‘nuclear weapon’ you need that brings peace

March 28, 2017 Rhonda Schrock Rhonda's Posts

 

20170328_133336Today, I’m gonna pass along a little tidbit (well, a kinda big one, actually) that’s been bringin’ me a whole lotta peace and rest. It came from Mr. Schrock once when he and I were talkin’ about his Great Travail and how he broke through to full peace and freedom and rest. “I just stopped.”

That’s what he said, and those simple, but mighty words, they lingered in my mind. “I. Just. Stopped.”

Some day, some time, that man really oughta be tellin’ his own story, for the work of the Lord in his heart and life and mind has been just power-full. (Hon, no need to be piffin’ at me. Yes, you are. I can hear you.)

Anyway, he said that he just flat out–and I mean flat out as in, face down on the floor, flat and out–gave every single thing over to God one sweet day, “and I refused to take it back. I said, ‘It is Yours. It’s not mine any more.'”

There came a point for me when, tired of the struggle with guilt; condemnation; the constant grappling with fears of all kinds; with anxiety; with worry, that I did exactly what Darling Man had done before, and I said, “That’s it. I am done. Whatever it takes.” And then this…

“Into Your hands I commit my spirit.”

For days, I took that man’s suggestion. “If you need a visible reminder,” he said to me, “you could even just look at those praying hands on your nightstand.” Which thought I simply loved, and I would carry the praying hands of Christ around with me, upstairs, downstairs, out into the kitchen, and then, at night, back to the side of my bed.

One look, and I would whisper with the last bit of strength that I had, “Into YOUR hands I commit my spirit.” And that was that.

But back, now, to the “I Just Stopped” nuclear weapon that the Lord and That Man tucked right into my arsenal. I simply took his advice and just stopped.

Every time a fear would come, I stopped. And didn’t entertain it.

Every time an accusation would come from the tempter, I stopped. And refused to receive it.

Every time anxiety would knock, I stopped. And refused to answer.

Every time the old tug to perform and earn by doing set in, I stopped. And chose to rest.

I simply refused to take the bait. No more! No more! No more.

I stopped.

I wish I could adequately describe the peace and rest and sheer happiness and contentment this has brought to both of us. Little-s satan can try all day long to bait, but we don’t have to bite. And, by grace, we don’t.

We stopped.

“Into Your hands I commit my spirit.” It starts there, and then you stop. The right start. The full stop. And you, dear soul, are on your way.

To milk and honey and rivers of life!

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