Humble yourself and surrender everything. I didn’t know this was what would be one of my hardest learned lessons this year. I didn’t even know it was something I struggled with, but it was.
At the beginning of my race I was given a prophetic word engraved on a key. My word was BOLD. Quite honestly this scared me since my goal was to slip through the year avoiding too much discomfort and bold didn’t really match up with that. My first thoughts were this really can’t be for me, I’m as bold as I’ll ever get, maybe I can sneak past it without it coming to fulfillment. Silly thoughts, yes. But they were my desperate cling to comfortable and secure.
Throughout my testimony Jesus was what I clung to. He was what I depeneded on. Or that’s what I thought. Yes I never doubted His existence or love for me, but I did doubt. I doubted deep in my heart just how much power He had. I doubted that He’d use it in my favor.
So while I kept the faith all through the trials of life, I was failing to surrender it all to Him. Pride built a wall in my life that said “you know what, I got this. I’ll give you just this much. You can take care of that. But I’ve got the rest.”
Big mistake. I not only failed to fully trust my God but I failed to even recognize the distance I was putting between us. I never thought pride had a place in my life. But it did and it was ruling.
All through the race Jesus pursued me relentlessly. Looking back there were constant whispers of “do you trust me? Then let it go. I’ll take care of it.” He never failed to rescue me from whatever I gave back to Him. And He didn’t just snatch it all away from me either. He didn’t storm in telling me how wrong I was, scolding me while He took it into His own hands.
Each time He gently reminded me He loved me. He didn’t yell or scold. He waited for me to let go. His eyes full of patience pleading for me to understand that if I only released all I was trying to carry, He could lift me higher. Closer to Him.
These whispers weren’t what I expected bold to look like. I didn’t think bold would be learning to let go. I thought bold would be reaching for more and taking control with authority. But instead I had to look back, recognize the one who gives authority, get down on my knees, and raise my empty hands.
Bold meant I had to realize I was holding onto the false reality that I was in control and give that back to Him. It was noticing that all I carried held no value unless it was touched by Him first. That I was powerless and empty except for what He gave me to pour out into the world. That I am absolutely nothing except for His vessel.
Once I let go of my pride and realized I was weak without Him, that’s when He made me strong. Once I took what I thought I could carry on my own and realized I couldn’t, He took it from me and gave me better. I’d been holding onto the false perception that I trusted my God to take care of me. I pretended I did, I thought I did, but I didn’t. I had no idea what really trusting Him looked like.
This year in my searching and desperation I finally heard His whispers. For the first time I met His gaze and became bold. I boldly fell to my knees before my King where I was at, in all of my brokenness, in a life I’d tried to repair. He showed me that my fixes look more like bad scotch tape loosely holding together pieces of construction paper. When I lifted my childlike “art” to Him, surrending my colourful mess, He waved His hand and turned it into a mosaic of beautifully coloured glass. Welded together by the hottest of fires. Refined and ready for it’s purpose: a mess turned to beauty to reflect the glory of it’s maker.
For me, bold now looks like a new way of living. One in which I’m found on my knees with open hands lifted high. Bold looks like a daily encounter with my God in which I humble myself and surrender it all. Because I was made to live boldly hand in hand with my savior, not to do it on my own.
