I am overwhelmed by the fears you have shared.
I wanted to share with you the moment everything changed for me. God became bigger than my fears and everything I was so afraid of shrunk in his shadow.
The night that I finally saw the waste of all my fear, I was tucked away on my bathroom floor late, reading the blog of a girl who was living as if God was real in Uganda, Katie Davis. Reading about a girl living with no fear, obeying Jesus with every part of her life. Seeing someone live so bravely exposed all of my fear.
I had been living paralyzed by the fear of people. At some point I started crying, hard. My heart was broken. Every god I had built and stroked and justified fell onto the bathroom floor that night with my tears. The life I was building was crashing before me. I grieved.
I grieved the control I had given to everyone around me by caring so much about their opinions of me. I grieved the life I had built around a plastic god and a pretend heaven that had only seemed slightly possible. I grieved a life that was spent on myself, the excess I had justified while others suffered. I grieved sitting back and controlling my image rather than pouring out my life and gifts for His name’s sake.
I grieved that my mind had been spent solving my own simple problems rather than giving my life away for the few years I am here.
And then I saw God—the real God—and I saw the moment I would meet him. He was on his throne with eyes fixed on me, questioning why I had sought my comfort more than him. Why had I loved people more than him? Why had I sat on every gift he had given me to make him known? Because I cared more about being judged by everyone else but him?
I weep now again as I write this. I weep because I almost got away with a wasted life. What if I had blown off the interruptions he was offering? I might be stuck with the mediocre life I was so afraid of losing at the time. But it was like he lifted my head, while I was in a puddle on the bathroom floor, and let me see into his heart, into heaven, into the brokenness of those suffering, into my own soul.
And in a moment what had never occurred to me made perfect sense. So much sense that I was willing . . . desperately willing. . . to do anything.
Two years after praying anything we met one of our anythings…
I sat on the concrete steps overlooking a patch of grass where my kids were playing soccer and I watched as my oldest son kicked a Rwandan soccer ball to his new little brother.
Tears came as I felt God whispering,
“Jennie, what if you had been too afraid to obey me?”
Look at what you would have missed.”
BE BRAVE! Pray. Obey. You don’t want to waste this life.
And tell us now, if you think you are starting to know – What is your anything? Will you take a photo – share it over here with us?
GIVEAWAY: Leave a comment sharing what your anything is or letting us know you posted a photo of it over here and you’re entered for a chance to win a copy of Anything.
We will choose one winner each day this week.
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