Open Palms

I almost didn’t go.

In fact, I said “no” the first time. It was right before bedtime when I called my friend, Shari, to let her know that I wouldn’t be able to speak for the event she was asking about in the beautiful Cayman Islands. I breathed a sigh of relief when I was able to simply leave a voicemail. I went to bed, certain I would sleep soundly with my decision having been made. I was sure God would approve, or at least, understand.

But no sleep came.

I tossed and turned all night, with little sleep and less comfort. I counted the hours ‘til morning and tried counting sheep. When my flock neared 500, I finally gave up and stopped counting. It was a miserable night.

The clock went off at 6am, but I was already awake. I slipped out of the warm covers and into the darkness of a quiet room. Shuffling into my bathroom, I flipped on the bright light. It was then that He took the opportunity to greet me. His words, clear as a bell, certainly woke me up.

Him: “Well, Lisa. What are you gonna do?”

Me: “Ummm…seriously, God. It’s pretty early. I’m not really sure I am following you. What exactly do you mean by that?

Him: “What are you gonna do?”

Me: “What am I gonna do? I did what I was gonna do. I hope it's ok with you. I didn't really have time to consult you on it, so I just went ahead and told Shari “no” that I couldn’t make it to the event.”

(Commentary: Funny how I didn’t have to ask Him what He was talking about before I answered.)

Him: “I know. But what are you gonna do?”

Me: “Ummm….ok, God, I know what you’re getting at. You want to know why I told her “no,” right? Why I’m not going to do this retreat? Well, you know why. I mean…you know I hate to fly and you know I don’t prefer to be away from my family and you know you can find someone else to do it and they don’t really have to have me. You know all that, right?”

Him: “I know.”

Me: “Ok, so…it’s just not my thing, ok? You understand, right? I did mention that the flight to the Caymans is over water, didn’t I? So that probably wouldn’t be a good idea for someone who is afraid to fly. Plus, the whole motherhood thing. I shouldn’t be away from the kids…so far away. Really, God. I don’t think I should go.”

Enter long, somewhat awkward pause.

Finally…

Him: “Open up your palms, Lisa. You’re closing them, again.”

Me: Silence.

I got the message, loud and clear. There was no need for a response. Really, I knew He didn’t want one. He had made His point.

He got me with the open palms thing. It had been just 4 years before that He had finally pried them open for the first time. They had been cracked open before…but never completely unlocked. Never stretched out flat. And certainly, never turned upward towards Him.

The day they became unclenched was a day I’ll never forget. Just 24 hours prior, I was sitting at a table at Outback with my good friend, Lysa TerKeurst, after having just experienced a wonderful conference together. I ordered chicken grillers but didn’t touch them. I don’t remember what she ordered. I was too busy thinking about the lump in my throat and wishing I could go somewhere to cry it out.

It wasn’t the food or the company that was making we want to cry. God had been dealing with me. From the front row of a conference I was partially serving to coordinate, administrate and implement (and speak for), He was dealing with me. I didn’t expect Him to. I really just expected to put on a beautiful conference for women. But He had much bigger plans in mind.

He wanted me to say “yes” to Him. After years and years, He was no longer willing to let my “no” stand.

I shared this with Lysa at the table at Outback that day, much of it spurred on by her powerful message at the conference. Though completely sincere and sensitive, she had a funny look on her face when I told her the news. I’m sure it sounded strange coming from a woman who had just helped to administrate a conference of 1500 women and all that comes with it. A woman who said “no” to God surely wouldn’t have done that. But that is exactly what I had done. And it wasn’t the first time.

Saying “yes” to coordinating a conference was something I could do without thinking twice about it. After all, with administration being a spiritual gift of mine, organizing, delegating and implementing was not a reach. It fit within my natural gifts and comfort zone to do what I could do with my hands and my talents. Though it took lots of careful planning (and a rockin’ team of women and tons of church support), it wasn’t that challenging for me. I could do it, and I could do it effectively.

And on top of all that, it would only require cracking my hands open enough to let God in, just a little bit. It was a “Maybe,” but not a 100%, “definitely.” And I knew He wanted more.

He wanted what I could not do in my own strength. He wanted my “way too hard” and “not within my comfort zone.” He wanted my “beyond my capabilities or wildest dreams” and “what does not come natural to me.” He wanted my trust. He wanted my surrender. He wanted my weakness, not my strength. He wanted the full affirmative from me, and nothing less.

I left the restaurant that day, convinced of what He was leading me to do. Exhausted from the day, I went home and quite literally, crashed.

Morning came early, and I knew what had to come next. I went to my prayer room, which doubles as my office. It’s a place where I have had many conversations with God. But this morning was different. As I eased down to my knees and onto the rough carpet, stained with juice box drippings and dirty shoe residue, I started to cry, finally releasing the lump that had been camped out in my throat. I closed my eyes and said only one word…

“yes.”

As I did, I cracked open my hands, like I had done so many times before. But then I did something different. I kept opening them…farther…farther…a little farther still. I opened them slowly until they were perfectly flat, completely horizontal. And even slower still, I turned them until they were exposing my cracks and creases, fingerprints facing upward.

Open palms.

I said, “yes” with my palms turned up, not knowing exactly what that meant or would mean for me. I just knew it meant that I was no longer saying “no” to Him. I simply couldn't deny surrender any more.

So when He told me to open up my palms in the bathroom on that early morning nearly 6 months ago, I immediately knew what He meant. I was holding back, again. I was doing what came easy to me. I was thinking about my preferences. I was giving into my fears. I was saying “no” in more ways than just through a voicemail to a friend. I wasn’t turning down on opportunity for a conference. I was saying “no” to Him.

And now I find myself leaving on Thursday for the Cayman Islands to go and speak with my good friend, Shari, to a group of beautiful women for the Barefoot and Breaking Free Retreat. I find myself preparing to fly over water and be scared out of my mind doing it. I find myself packing to leave my children for 4 days longer than I want to.

But I also find myself saying “yes” to Him. I find myself with open palms. And in the process, I find myself being completely filled with joy and ready to hear from God.

And the conclusion to my story? After my conversation with God, I called Shari back and left her another voicemail. This time, I said “yes.”

To her and to Him.