Have you ever heard anything that has just shaken you? Like the words were accompanied with a sledgehammer that struck you straight in the heart? I had no idea why. I was honestly focusing more on the fact that lunch was in 10 minutes than on what our speaker was saying. But next thing I know, I’ve got chills going down my spine and I’m left choked up, eyes stinging, and thinking, “what was that?” I quickly scribbled the phrase down in my notebook, hoping that I would be able to discern what it was about those words that hit me so hard.

Soul Surgery

I’ve begun to form a routine here on the campus. My mornings are spent in the prayer room until 6:30, when I go to breakfast. I’ve got class until I go to lunch at noon. Afternoons usually consist of evangelism, outreach team time, or small groups, followed by working in the kitchen or working out at cross fit. Monday nights are ministry nights, Tuesday nights I play basketball, Wednesday nights are family nights with my school, Thursday nights we have a service with the whole campus, Friday nights and Saturdays I explore the island, and Sundays I generally reflect and write my blog post. Yet in the midst of the consistency of the schedule, there is an underlying journey that God is taking me on. He’s digging deep into places of my heart that I didn’t even know existed, and half the time I wonder how they can expect us to go to the next event on our schedule so soon after such intense soul surgery was performed.

Father Heart

For week three we had Ben Nonoa (“Uncle Ben”) teach on the Father Heart of God. I think for most of us, knowing God as a father is something we’ve heard hundreds of times before, yet as Uncle Ben brought the truth in all its raw intensity, we quickly became aware of how shallow our understanding of God’s love had actually penetrated us. For though we knew it in our heads, our hearts still hadn’t managed to believe that such a love could exist for us. And as we came in contact with this reality, it forced all of the hindrances to the surface, because in order to receive the love of God you have to first make room for it.

It was during this time that those words struck me. All he said was, “Some of you have safety harnesses that you need release. You have a plan B if this doesn’t work, a ‘just in case’ God doesn’t show up. And if you want to go deeper, you’re going to have to let go of it.” So there I am, shaken by these words and thinking, what safety harness do I have? My whole life has been about this. All of what I do is centered on Jesus. All my dreams and aspirations are about what I can do for God; why does that phrase mean anything to me?

Plan B

As you may have read in my previous posts, this has been a season of seeing that God is so much bigger than I had previously thought. It’s been a season of believing that God really could heal all of me. But as you ask for healing you soon find that God actually wants to heal you, and he is completely willing to bring up all of the junk you’d rather leave buried. In this process I’m forced to ask myself, “What if I allow all of these fears and insecurities that I spent so long hiding from to be brought up, and God doesn’t deal with them? What then? Am I willing to face my fears and dare to believe that God will face them with me?” And so I’ve stood on the edge of this precipice, feeling like I’ve been fully surrendered, yet I’ve remained in the place of my own dependence. Toes over the edge, but still in control. I’ve limited how far I’ll go based on what I know I can handle. You see, I’ve stayed where if God doesn’t show up I’ll still be okay. I’ve got the zeal and the willpower to overcome the depression or fear I may come up against. I have the resolve, I have the wisdom, I have the experience; nothing will shake my faith. So if God doesn’t come through I’ll be alright, because I have a plan B: me.

But as long as that safety harness remains I will never be free, because the same thing that would protect me from vulnerability would hinder me from the freedom of falling out of my security and into the arms of a Father who would show me what true safety is. For to be dependent on oneself is to never truly be free, because, in all honesty, we know we are incapable; we know we can’t keep all of our fears subdued forever. But the letting go is an invitation into a safety not dependent on my strength of will, but on God’s strength made perfect in my weakness. So as I’ve begun to let myself fall off of this precipice, I’ve felt the rush of adrenaline through my veins, the heart palpitations pounding in my ears, the butterflies in my stomach, the breathe held tightly in my lungs, and all of my attention focuses on the question, “Will God catch me?”