The Vows I Didn’t Have to Keep

 

 
It’s funny how some things become so normal that you forget they’re part of your character.  Like the way you walk, for example.  No one ever really processes putting one foot in front of the other.  Or why you are or are not a morning person.  Or why you fear what you fear.

My first journal entry from the Race reads like this:

I came onto the Race full of fear.  Fear of men.  Fear of brokenness.  Fear of being hurt by my teammates or of not being chosen or of not being loved.  Fear of being led by a man, and then, when team changes happened, of being on a team of all women.   Fear of being perceived as fearful.  Fear of being the same person I was before the Race, or worse, being the same person I was before I knew Christ.

It’s a vicious cycle, really, one that has impacted many of my actions on the Race.  I’ve realized lately that it is a cycle that has led me to react rather than decide.  Twice now I’ve made “decisions” out of fear, terrified of the woman I used to be before Jesus changed my heart.  I was too afraid of being who I was to focus on who I am becoming.  I reacted to the decisions of others, making vows out of the pain I felt and the desire to never feel that way again, rather than making deliberate choices. 

Let it just be said that neither of the vows I made could be seen as inappropriate.  In fact, if anything, both of them probably made me seem far more holy than I actually am.  They were vows meant to enable me to live a more Christ-centered life, one filled with more of Him and less of me.  One where the distractions of this life were minimized and there was a far smaller likelihood of me messing up anything up. 

For all my outward certainty, I wasn’t sure I’d done the right thing, making vows.  When I finally brought them before the LORD (after making them months before) and asked Him what He thought of them, He said,

That took me back.  I spent most of the 24 hour bus ride from Uganda to Tanzania thinking about it.  And the answer was simple. 

I don’t trust me not to give into temptation.  I don’t trust that I am a new creation.  I don’t trust that who I was before is not who I am now.

So I asked Him why He trusts me and I heard Him call me “Daughter” for the first time.  I mean, I know I am, but I’ve never actually heard Him call me that before.  He’s called me His “Little One” and “Beloved”, but this new name gave me a grown-up feeling that turning 21 never did.  I released these vows to my Abba, telling Him that if He said to, I would stay with to them.  I would hold fast to the promises I made.  He just had to tell me what to do.

Within moments, they were back in my hands.  He returned them to me to steward. 

He told me,

I think this must be what it means to walk into daughtership with Jesus.  I wanted to put restrictions on myself because I was afraid of what I might do.  He said that I am a new creation.  I wanted to be a legalist.  He reminded me of His unending love.  I told myself that I’m just a screw-up who needs to protect herself from a screwed up world.  He told me I was His trusted, beloved daughter walking in the fullness of a glorious, blessed inheritance.

So I’m giving up the vows I didn’t have to make.  I’m renouncing the fear that’s held me captive all my life.  I’m finding that running after the LOVE He has for me will protect this healing heart far more than my invisible walls could.  I’m deciding the course of my life based on the identity I have in my Abba Father, my Jesus Savior, my Holy Spirit guide, rather than reacting to the pain this world [and I] can cause.

And in this, I find more freedom than my vows could have given me.  And in this, I choose grace for myself and the mistakes I might make in the future.  And in this, I decide to trust the woman I am because who I am is a woman after the heart of her Father.  Because who I am is His Daughter and all my identity is found in that new name.