Obeying and Abiding

I went out for lunch with a couple of my friends on Sunday. While we all sat and ate together, one of them asked what God had revealed to us that week. I’m pretty sure I audibly went “oof”. There had been a lot of little things happening over the past several weeks, things that God brought all together that week. But it had all been revealed to me within a response, a response I hadn’t totally realized.

If you’ve read my journals before, or if you’ve heard my testimony, you know that I struggled with my mental health and with unhealed trauma for the majority of my life. The years in which I struggled were years that my brain had wired itself to think that, at the sight of trouble, I needed to get out. I would immediately feel trapped and stuck, but I wouldn’t be looking for ways out that were ideal- my brain had wired itself to think that the only way out was to make a permanent decision. This was something I struggled with for years. The thoughts were still there even after I knew I was safe. My brain needed time to catch up.

Those thoughts used to be my response. I would find myself running with the worst case scenario as if to mentally prepare myself, but that’s never where the situation would go. I would get myself exhausted and worked up before I would even start to see it through.

Now, I’ve gotten way better with that over the years. I’m not as quick to jump to the worst, but would still notice myself leaning into my feelings first, taking it to God once I let myself “feel all the things”.

I’ve been more emotional over the past 2 weeks as a result of getting a concussion, which is then discouraging because I’m overwhelmingly sad without a reason. But I think I realized last week, because I really had to take it easy and spend way more time just sitting and being, that my responses have shifted. And I think I knew it, just like I knew it years ago that I wasn’t struggling with anxiety anymore- but it took a moment of realization. The moment with my anxiety was in the middle of Walmart, after I’d split off from my family to look for my own stuff, something I’d never done before because I was too afraid. But this moment was on my living room floor, as the tears started to stream down my face (for absolutely no reason, there was nothing to be sad about), instead of spending all this time to try to figure it out or make stuff up, I opened my Bible.

That’s where I want to be. When life comes at me, I want to lean in, but not on. I don’t want to lean on my own understanding. I don’t want to lean on my feelings as a crutch, I want to lean into the One who holds it all. That’s the dance God and I have been in.

But can I tell you about all of the little things that came together?

Before this moment in my living room, I’d been in a weird fight. A battle with discouragement. It’s been off and on over the past several weeks.

It was really heavy a few Sundays ago. As I walked into church that morning, spaced out and in my own little world, I was snapped out of my thoughts when something red happened to catch my eye. It was a cardinal, sitting on the step. I didn’t know why it was there, it didn’t necessarily look injured, but it stayed still. It didn’t flinch at my movement. I stood there for a while, just watching it until I had to go in. But I thought about it the whole morning, the way it sat at the steps of our church, not moving. And then I felt God speak to me through it.

In the middle of the discouragement, God’s been showing me how to be encouraged by it. And as I thought about this cardinal, I felt God showing me a piece of myself in it. Now, I know the bird didn’t fly to church that morning because it knew that church service was starting at 10am, but I knew that something had to have been wrong with that bird for it to just be sitting still on the step. And yet it was on the steps of my church. It couldn’t move anywhere else, couldn’t do what it felt like it was meant to do, but it sat there.

I was showing up that morning to lead worship, what I felt I was meant to be doing that morning, but I felt like there was this weight that had me struggling to even walk through the doors. But I had to be there. I had to be in His presence. I had to sit with Him. And even if I was walking into the morning *feeling* like I didn’t want to worship, I knew that I had to still go in and sing His praise.

My Psalm this year is Psalm 42. I’ve always loved this Psalm. For one, it mentions a deer, and I really love deer. But I also really love Psalm 42 because I remember the months leading up to me giving my life to Jesus, singing a song that talked about a soul thirsting for Him. It brings me back to the very beginning of my relationship with Him. And when I felt this Psalm being put on my heart for my 24th year, I was so focused on that part of it. My soul thirsting for Him, as the deer pants for flowing streams. It wasn’t until I was a few months into me being 24 that I REALLY dove into the rest of that chapter- the part that talks about a soul being downcast (which is literally the title of the chapter), a soul that will again praise Him. Those verses hit me in moments where I really didn’t want to sing. I really didn’t want to worship. I really didn’t want to show up. I wanted to accept my downcast soul and sit in it. But God brought me to verse 4. The ESV says it like this:

“These things I remember, as I pour out my soul:

how I would go with the throng and lead them in the procession to the house of God

with glad shouts and songs of praise, a multitude keeping festival.”

It’s saying, “I was always at the head of the worshiping crowd, right out in front, leading them all eager to arrive and worship.” It’s a moment of remembering how it used to be before the soul was in despair. But the following verse in the Passion Translation says, “for no matter what, I will still sing with praise, for you are my saving grace!” No matter what, I will still sing with praise. When I don’t feel like it, when my soul feels cast down, I will still sing with praise.

It's obedience.

It’s the thing God and I have been talking about the most.

This discouragement wasn’t a coincidence, but something wanting to drive me to a point of giving up on dreams that I know God has placed on my heart. But it’s my choice. When the discouragement comes, where will I run? Will I run with these thoughts, or will I run to truth? What is my why? Is it based on my own thoughts or feelings? Or is it based out of response of knowing who He is and being obedient? In the moments where I want to shrink back, is it because I feel like that’s what God is actually telling me to do or is it because I want to go back to what’s comfortable? Obedience over feelings.

God brought me to Luke 5- when Jesus calls the first disciples. Jesus gets into Simon’s boat to teach the people about the word of God. When He finishes speaking, He tells Simon to “Put out into the deep and let down your nets for a catch.” Simon responds, saying that they had just been out all night, the time in which they would normally go out, but at Jesus’ word he will let down the nets. Upon doing this, they caught a large number of fish, about 2 weeks worth, and their nets were to the point of breaking.

Jesus tells them to go into the DEEP. That’s another thing that’s been showing up all around me. God brought me to Ezekiel 47 a couple of weeks ago, talking about us going into deeper waters and not just staying at a place where our feet can touch (or a place we’ve been before), but allowing ourselves to be swept away by the Holy Spirit, and the morning God brought me there, our pastor talked about it in service. We’re meant to go deeper, that’s where we’re meant to cast our nets. But it begged the question for me- am I casting my nets only in my own convenience or where I’ve seen Him before? Or will I let Him do miracles in new things? It wasn’t the disciples that brought in the fish, but it was their obedience to Him that He used. I don’t want to make excuses, saying “well, I just went out and did this thing that’s worked before, and nothing came from it.” I want to be obedient. I want Him to use me. To the point where it may feel like my nets are breaking. I want it to go beyond me, beyond what I can do on my own. I want Him to use the dreams He’s placed on my heart, I don’t want to hide them in fear of messing up along the way. It’s obedience over perfection.

If you go on in Luke 5, you see Jesus call Levi. Jesus tells Levi to follow Him and immediately, Levi rises and follows Him. Levi then prepares Him a FEAST in his house, with a large company of tax collectors and others sitting at the table with them. The Pharisees grumble at this, asking Jesus why He would sit and eat/drink with tax collectors and sinners. They viewed themselves as the righteous ones, the obedient ones- but they had completely missed the point in their quest to prove their own righteousness. The final verses of Luke 5 talk about how our self-righteousness can’t hold the new wine of the Holy Spirit. I don’t want to miss the point, obeying the call of my own quest. I don’t want to live my life giving Him what He hasn’t asked of me.

“God loves obedience more than sacrifice. We can offer our lives, our talents, our money, our skills, but if it’s not what He is asking of us, then we may often miss what He has for us. Frankly, not being obedient is sin. However, we can’t hear what He is telling us without a posture of listening and openness. My prayer is that we are all in tune with the Spirit so that HE may lead us in all that we do.” That was on the white board by our green room this past week. It hit me as I thought about Luke 5.

A posture of listening and openness. That’s how we know what He’s asking of us. But how do we get there?

We abide in Him. It takes us deeper. It’s where we’re pruned, where our growth is enhanced. It’s from this that we see an abundant harvest. The fruit comes from the secret place, the moments that other people aren’t seeing. The moments when I’m sitting on my apartment floor. The moments where it would appear easier to run to what I’m feeling. It’s abiding in Him, living a life in union with Him, where we tune into the Spirit. He gives us the direction we need here. It’s in this place where His love nourishes our hearts. It’s where we crave Him more and more- that as we abide in Him, we desire Him more. They go together, obeying and abiding. They’re more than just what we feel. That’s where the posture begins.