What does “amen” actually mean? If you’re a part of or grew up in a Christian home, you’re probably used to saying it because it’s something that is said rather than because you know its meaning. Personally, I never thought twice about it until the day my Dad sat me down and asked me directly.
I was always the kid with the answers in Sunday school; even if I didn’t raise my hand, I usually knew the answer and if I didn’t I soaked it up so that the next time the question came around, I’d know for sure then. And this question was one of those times.
What he told me was, “saying ‘amen’ means that we say, ‘we agree.’”
Oh, okay. That makes sense. So whoever is praying the prayer says all these great things and then when they finally finish, (usually so we can eat), we all say that we agree with everything that person is saying. Cool. Next time I’d have that answer.
Sometimes though, my mind will idly take an idea and turn it over in my head again and again, just playing with it, asking questions and finding answers. For example, what’s the most basic way to say you’re in agreement with someone? It’s to say ‘yes.’
Yes.
Such a simple word. And yet it contains so much power. It has the power to bind you to something the same way a signature or a handshake can. It has the power to release you from the weight and history of your past. It’s an answer. It’s a choice. It’s something that says, “I willingly step into this and I’m going to see it through.”
It doesn’t matter why it’s said. It doesn’t matter how it’s said. It only matters that it is said.
This month, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking and turning ideas over in my mind and coming to God with each of them. There’ve been a lot of questions, and questions tend to breed more questions, especially when the answers are few and far between.
Yes, I’m being vague intentionally; I’m not ready to talk about the specifics of the matter.
Oh, hey look, there’s that word again. Yes.
The other day, I asked God why he was bringing me through this season of questions. “Is it just to show me the weight and meaning of my ‘yes?’” I asked him.
Confession time: I have this bad (well, what is “bad” really?) habit of walking into situations half blind. I’m not talking about deciding to read a book in my free time even when I don’t know what it’s about (though I have done that). I’m talking about major life choices like spending a year in Richmond to teach inner city kids or which college I decided to attend. When making a decision, I tend to pray for God’s direction and once I have a pretty good understanding of where he wants me to go, I tend to just go, saying yes blindly and stepping into it, waiting to see where God will show up. Yes, I did this with the Race too.
Needless to say, this way of living is a great way to freak out your parents, especially if they particularly enjoy plans and solid reasoning. I still remember when I told them I was going to accept the position in Richmond and hadn’t really done any research on the program. My Mom kept asking me for specifics and the answer was usually, “I don’t know.” Thankfully though, because my parents are true believers of Christ, when I tell them I know God is pointing me in a specific direction, they will accept and go along with it . . . eventually. 😉
I went down a rabbit trail there. All this to say, with this thing that God has been bringing up, having me ask questions about, I’ve been doing some research, trying to wrap my brain around the whole thing. And it’s a big thing. It’s something that will affect me physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. It’s something I’ve never done before and I have nothing with which to compare it. I’ve made some crazy decisions in my life, but this one might take the cake.
In considering all the aspects of it, counting the cost, as some would say, I wrote in my journal, “what would this do to the person I’m becoming? Will it make me stronger or weaker? Will I be left with anything besides a broken hallelujah?”
I remembered the other day that before I left on the Race, what seems like forever ago, I asked God concerning this decision to take away all of the negative emotions if I’m supposed to go and to take all of the positive emotions and let me no longer feel them if I’m meant to stay. Well, what I’m feeling towards it now could definitely be described as a negative emotion; fear is not of the Lord, but instead of feeling relief when I remembered that, I made a new self-discovery.
I realized that even with that particular fleece thrown down, so to speak, it would no longer work for me. When I recognize fear as something I’m feeling, it isn’t signaling the freedom to walk away from something, it’s a bright, blazing sign that I need to examine whatever it is that much closer.
God, you are so ironic, I see what you did there. Ten points to Gryffindor.
So this is what I wrote down, what I’m trying to remember, what I’m trying to act on even if I don’t feel it.
“[God,] you know me. You have a plan for me. And those things are good. If _______ is the plan, then that will be good. If something else is the plan, then that will be good too. You will have your way in me, in my life, in whatever I do. And as long as I step back and trust you to do that, then I will only grow in you.
“Because you are a good, good Father. It’s who you are. . . .
“I need to remind myself that my life is sacrificed for your will, that whatever you ask of me is what I need to establish as first priority. . . .
“If you ask me to go, I will say yes. It may be a test from my knees as I cry out in anguish. It may be a yes barely audible from where my face has hit the floor because there’s no strength left in my body, but for every moment I live and breathe, that I have the power to exert my own will, let my answer to you always be yes and amen.
“Let my amen, broken as it may be, always be my answer, always bring pleasure to your ears and always further your kingdom.
“Amen.”
And he answered me. He always does.
“You worry over nothing. I remind you again, I’ve not asked you to set foot inside this ring. What you wanted was reassurance, what you got was information you weren’t ready to hear.
“I gave you permission to look at _______, but that doesn’t mean you’re going to like what you see. Sometimes you have to practice your broken amen and just say yes. Sometimes I’m going to open a window for you to look through now just so later, when I ask you to walk through the door, you can see how far you’ve come, that you’re no longer scared. That you’ve counted the cost, you’ve been brought up and raised up and prepared and now it’s time to go through the door because you’re ready.
“On another note, I did not raise you in a spirit of fear. My girl doesn’t let fear get close to her head or her heart, but acknowledges it and in bravery brings it to me. You are a part of my pack and you are my wolf; you are courage, you are power, you are strength. You are kindness and gentleness too . . . you bow to no one but me and my will for your life. Is that clear?
“So you are fortified. You are strengthened. And yet I am still working on you. I’m still chipping away at you, I’m still purifying and testing you. I’m still bringing you through the fire.
“You look at ______ and you see something quite probably even harder than what you’re doing now. You’d have to take everything you’ve learned and are going to learn this year and continue it on your own . . . and you’d add even more mental and physical hoops to jump through. It’s no walk in the park, that’s for sure.
“But I haven’t designed you for ease. . . . [your life] is hard and it will only get harder. But that’s where I am, that’s where you’ll find me. And that’s the sweetest place to be, isn’t it?”
So that’s where I am. These are the reminders I’m trying to keep in the forefront of my head.
TTFN,
TL
