“We thank God when we pray for you…
He has delivered us from the domain of darkness…
Continue in the faith…
I rejoice in my sufferings…”
And then, I heard Him say it loud and clear:
“Stop bracing for impact.”
I had been reading Colossians when He spoke these words to me, and I almost couldn’t believe it because I didn’t even understand where it came from. It was nowhere in the text but it was filled in my mind. I shut my Bible and allowed each word of that sentence to play in my mind.
Stop.
Bracing.
For.
Impact.
What does that mean? I thought. Do I even do that?
I didn’t have to think about it for long, I knew the answer.
The knots in my shoulders and a look into my eyes any time I enter into a room full of strangers are silent but telling testaments to the fact that, indeed yes I brace for impact. Almost subconsciously and naturally, I prepare for pain, heartache and trial to come. Physically, emotionally, spiritually, I take my stance and wait — living in the expectation that familiarity with happiness is foolishness, for hardship surely is waiting for me around the next bend.
I don’t know when exactly I learned to do this. For as long as I remember, I’ve tried to manage my expectations so to not have disappointment, to manage my present joy so to not be engulfed with inevitable and impending grief, to manage my self in a way so to not be hit too hard by unexpected impact.
But then, sitting on a stiff couch in a foreign place, Jesus whispered, “Stop.”
So took a deep breath, and I said okay.
As I thought about why He was asking this of me, I recounted His promise within my current season of redemption, and concocted a totally false yet seemingly logical and *almost* inspired conclusion…
“THIS SEASON IS ABOUT ME BEING FREE FROM ANY UNEXPECTED IMPACT!” I thought bravely, and my imagination ran wild of the carefree, easy and beautiful months ahead.
That train of thought lasted about a week. And then you know what happened?
I missed a big event at home, impact. I received a text with bad news, impact. Conflict between friends, impact. Lies from the enemy, impact. An unkind word, impact. Pretty public failure, impact. Homesickness, impact.
It’d only been a week and I was hit with A HELL OF A LOT OF IMPACT, literally.
At first, I was in denial. The first of the hard hits came and I said to myself, “No, no, no. This seems bad but it must be good. God told me no more impact. So this is fine, yeah this is all fine…”
After like my fifth time crying in public, I moved from the denial stage and fully realized that impact surely was upon me.
My response was less than inspiring. I was straight up mad about it.
I questioned God. I was confused. I was bitter. I wanted to hide, to escape. But mostly, underneath it all, I was upset at myself. Because although I swore it was His voice, I must have misheard Him when He had said, “Stop bracing for impact.”
Because clearly, I SHOULD HAVE BEEN BRACING. Because, like I should have known it would be, impact was there waiting for me.
So I prayed. And I prayed again (and again, and again), and then God brought me here:
“So if you have been raised with Christ, seek the things above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things above, not on earthly things. For you died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ, who is your life, appears, then you also will appear with Him in glory.”
Colossians 3:1-4
Christ, who is my life.
Christ, my life.
Jesus Christ, my life.
A truth that was staring me in the face but was so hard to see was this: I wasn’t being asked to stop bracing for impact because He was going to remove all places of impact in my life. God is calling me to stop bracing for impact because He wants me to live in a way that focuses on the things of heaven and not the things of earth.
If my life is Christ, then trials, tribulations, and impact in this earthly world are just as sure for me as they were for Jesus. If my life is Christ, then my truest hope and life dwells hidden with the Father. Not only that, but if Christ is my life, then He also is my death and my resurrection, too. The brokenness of this earth can’t define me any more than the world can contain Jesus.
So what does this mean about bracing for impact?
Simply, it’s a waste of my precious time here. It’s not how God calls me into life and life abundantly.
It’s not my bracing that keeps the enemy at bay, it’s His. The Father takes my hits for me. Jesus paves the way from every unexpected impact. Holy Spirit comforts me with truth beyond what I see and feel and think that I know.
And I don’t need a season absent of hardships to claim and live in the power that Jesus has over every trial of this world and every hurt of my heart.
God is calling me to stop bracing for impact and instead be thankful and joyful, patient and kind, freely accepting and giving of Love, and ultimately, to be expectant of His faithful promise, perfect fatherhood and unconditional kindness to the fullest extent — not far off, but here and now.
Despite what tomorrow may bring, He’s calling me to focus on the expectation of His glory more so than the expectation of my earthly sorrows.
Colossians 3 goes on to say how to live in light of looking to the things above:
“Therefore, as God’s chosen ones, holy and dearly loved, put on compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, and patience, bearing with one another and forgiving one another if anyone has a grievance against another. Just as the Lord has forgiven you, so you are also to forgive. Above all, put on love, which is the perfect bond of unity. And let the peace of Christ, to which you were also called in one body, rule your hearts. And be thankful. Let the word of Christ dwell richly among you, in all wisdom teaching and admonishing one another through psalms, hymns, and spiritual songs, singing to God with gratitude in your hearts. And whatever you do, in word or in deed, do everything in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through Him.”
Colossians 3:12-17
Bracing for impact on my own strength sets my mind on half-truths, control, anxiety, insecurity, fear, rejections, anger, and self pity.
Surrendering my hardships when they arise and laying them at the foot of the cross gives the space for God to heal, comfort, provide for, and love me like only He can.
And like Colossians 3 says, this Way provides avenues of freedom for me to walk in compassion, kindness, humility, gentleness, patience, love, peace, unity, truth, gratitude, purpose, community, joy, praise and thanksgiving.
Entering into my last month on the field, I’m still tempted to pick up my ways of bracing for impact and living in expectation of hurt, trials and goodbyes. Yet surrendering my efforts for eternal, beautiful protection, inheritance and real love sounds more like a life worth living, and the life that Jesus died to bring me into.
Take it from me, stop bracing for impact. Rest in knowing that your Father is taking care of you.
“God does not leave His children in the depths of sorrow. Joy will come, and it will come in God’s timing.” John Piper.
