Being in the throes of “Gods plan, not mine” is an expected reality in the life of a Christian.
Three years ago, my little family and I were in between getting out of the garage in North Carolina (More on the garage at a later date) and moving to our current home in South Carolina. An obscene number of hours were spent on the road five days a week, commuting to work for Jeremy and I and taking Moya to daycare. It was a prime time to easily fall into a depressive state as a result of the “following Jesus” life I supposedly surrendered to.
During that time there were days where following Jesus sounded like a romantic idea, and others when it sounds exciting and meaningful. But then there were days that sometimes stretch into longer seasons when it’s crushing to the soul, and you find yourself struggling to hope and hang on to the many promises that He has given us. Our humanity has a way of separating us from what we know by heart, and find ourselves purely operating in survival mode, depending on our mind, which we all know is not that dependable.
And as I wade through these feelings that are not facts, I feel a nudge from the Holy Spirit to be grateful and rest.
This topic obviously applies to men and women, but my prayer is that this will speak to the sister in Christ who is weary and questioning if she has any other purpose than running on a “busy wheel”, having only enough energy and strength to concentrate on not falling off.
The woman who does not have a lifesaving relationship with Jesus will never experience peace. Her reality is something that she is in control of, and when it spins out of control, it causes her to spin faster and faster and faster until anxiety runs her decisions, and the feeling of never being or doing enough becomes normal and comfortable. When you don’t believe in a sovereign God that moves you, breathes through you and orders your steps in life, you are left to “believe in yourself”. How scary that statement is.
And then there are others who believe in the goodness of people, the high of relationships, or our government, or a particular movement that promises change, equality and opportunity. But it doesn’t stop the spinning. It doesn’t stop the sense that life just isn’t what she thought it was going to be, or should be. Even when things are what she imagined and “life couldn’t get any better”, but somehow, it’s not better.
As Christian women, we have the ultimate gift of knowing that our lives are not our own. That we belong to a heavenly Father who is steering the ship and beckoning us to sleep during the storms, knowing that He is fully capable and loves us more than we could ever understand.
When life isn’t about me; what we do, how we feel, who we become, it takes the pressure off to fulfill that which wasn’t our job in the first place. It’s how we were created and designed: to trust Him and let His grace be our transport to sanity.
Last night I spoke to my husband, vulnerably telling him that I “know my identity is in Christ, but it almost feels like I’m having an identity crisis.”
But God.
God calls His daughters to be seamless to Him. People should look at us and see Him shining through our eyes or hear Him in our speech. Our purpose of existence is one with His purpose of love and salvation for all those who believe in Him. Not only salvation for eternity after death, but salvation for the sanity of living.
“Take my will and make it Thine,
It shall be no longer mine.
Take my heart, it is Thine own,
It shall be Thy royal throne.”
-Take My Life and Let It Be
