Broken Toys

I've been thinking about something that happened when I was a very little girl.
I had a dolly that I loved. I took my dolly with me everywhere. We played together, slept together, even went to church together. One day my dolly's arm came off. I was crying as I took my dolly to Daddy. In my mind, my daddy, who was a carpenter, coud make anything, and fix anything.
I clutched my dolly in my arms as I sobbed. "Dolly's broke. Daddy, fix."
Daddy took me in his arms and sat me on his knee, then tried to take my dolly from my arms. I clutched tightly, unwilling to let dolly go. Daddy certainly could have taken my dolly from me by force, but he didn't struggle with me. He sat for a while holding me, stroking my hair, patting my back, but still I clung to dolly, unwilling to let him take her from me.
Finally. Daddy said, "Peanut, I can't fix your dolly unless you give her to me."

Sometimes, I see myself as that little girl, crying about the brokenness in my life, begging God to fix it, but unwilling to let go. I know I'm not the only one who does this. Alcoholics Anonymous (how I know about AA is a whole other story) has a bumper sticker that says, "Let Go, and Let God."

The first time I saw this sticker, I was puzzled. But after I thought about it, I realized that I'm not the only one who brings my troubles to Him, and then won't let go so that He can have control.

I heard Mercyme singing this morning a song I had never heard, about "so long, self."

Whether it is my self, or someone else in my life who is troubled, I need to give it to God, and let Him make of it what he will. He can't fix it, until I let go.