I'll Take it From Here

Dear God,

Thanks for getting me out of that pit of addiction I was in. That was a rough time, eh? I definitely needed You to pull me out; I couldn't have done it alone! I'm doing pretty well, though, and while I owe that much to You, I'm good now. So, I'll take it from here, God. You've done enough,

Amen.

If your eyes are bugging out of your head in fear and trembling out of concern for the well-being of my soul, good! I have been reviewing the path I was on when I had my latest slips, and it all boils down to pride. Subconsciously, I had the above prayer going on. I'll take it from here. I began to let little dents in my armor go un-repaired. I began to slacken my fortifications little by little, telling myself I was strong enough now. Or, rather, accepting and believing Satan's lies that I was strong enough now.

Note to self: I am never strong enough!

I have learned this lesson before. I have had this lesson before, numerous times. Evidently, I haven't actually learned it yet. As my Uncle Steve used to say, "Learning is a change of behavior."

However, by that standard, I am learning because I am changing! And there is hope in that.

I took my will back. Neal A Maxwell said "The submission of one's will is really the only uniquely personal thing we have to place on God's altar. It is a hard doctrine, but it is true. The many other things we give to God, however nice that may be of us, are actually things He has already given us, and He has loaned them to us. But when we begin to submit ourselves by letting our will be swallowed up in God's will, then we are really giving something to Him."

I gave it to Him! At least part of it. I gave Him what I could, and I kept giving a little more of my will as I recognized it. But then, I slowly began taking it back. I'll take it from here. I got this.

Soon, I could literally feel the pride consuming me. But I didn't understand where it was coming from! I couldn't see that it was because I was taking back my will and doing things my way again. I knew it somewhere, and I didn't take enough time to search it out. Admitting I'm wrong is hard.

Will = trust. Wherever my will is, that is where my trust is also. If I take it back, I'm saying that I trust myself to get me through this. Me. A mortal. If I take it back, I'm saying that I don't trust God, my Eternal Father, all-knowing, all-wise, infinite God. I trust me over Him? If I take back my will, I'm saying I trust myself more than I trust Jesus, who Atoned for me so I could overcome this very thing.

My brother Jesus Christ, who took upon him my pains, sorrows and affliction. My Jesus, who bore the burden of my every sin so that I may experience peace on this earth and throughout eternity. He took on the wounds of my afflictions; the bruises of my iniquities, the chastisement of my peace. He took my punishment so that I can be free, and I dare say "I'll take it from here?" I dare mock His sacrifice by presuming I can handle it on my own?

No. I need Him. And if I don't need Him, then I'm being selfish and cruel. When I take back my will, I'm taking back my only true gratitude. Everything else I have, I have because of Him. I cannot be grateful when I hold my will also. "I'll take it from here?" I'll take His blood and His tears? I'll do it? I'll take His sacrifice and pay for my own salvation? I'll take His place as Savior?

No! I cannot, and how dare I presume to do so? I cannot save myself anymore than an infant can survive on her own. If an infant refuses her mother's breast, she will die. (Well, or bottle, but that didn't sound as good.) An infant can no more decide to feed himself than I can decide to save myself.

And yet, still, I try. Let me do this. I got this. I'll take it from here.

Jesus took it already and I can't take it from here. I can't take it from Him. The only thing I can choose to take from Him is my will - my agency, my trust - after I've given it to Him. And when I do that, my life becomes awfully messy.

Life's too big. Give it to God.

President Packer said, "Perhaps the greatest discovery of my life, without question the greatest commitment, came when finally I had the confidence in God that I would loan or yield my agency to Him--without compulsion or pressure, without any duress, as a single individual alone, by myself, no counterfeiting, nothing expected other than the privilege. In a sense, speaking figuratively, to take one's agency, that precious gift which the scriptures make plain is essential to life itself, and say, 'I will do as you direct,' is afterward to learn that in so doing you possess it all the more."

Beautiful. And I know it to be true, for when I successfully turn my will over to God's will, I am happy, strong, and powerful.

Helaman 5:9, slightly modified: O remember, remember, Stephanie . . . remember that there is no other way nor means whereby you can be saved, only through the atoning blood of Jesus Christ, who shall come. . . .

I cannot save myself. There is only one way, and it's certainly not my way.

Dear God,

Thank You for helping me out of the deep pit of addiction. I know I have a long way ahead of me, and I trust that You will continue to help me. I'm sorry I slipped. I let go of Your hand because I thought I could climb alone. Here, Lord, here's my hand again, and my heart. Please, take it from here,

Amen.