It was on one of these mornings, that my mind was already in the car speeding off to school, when she rose from her knees to her feet and handed me Philippians 4:6-7. I’m sure she meant to address some concern I had, something senior-ish, which I’ve long forgotten. I read it in the driver’s seat of my car, then stared at it, and then treasured it. Be anxious for nothing.
Get ready, y’all. I’m about to blow your mind.
No amount of performance can fashion me into a power to be trusted with outcomes. He alone is worthy. Only He can be trusted.
Only His presence, only His voice, only His truth. That’s where the healing is.
Perfect. That one word. It doesn’t seem like much. We use it all the time. We make the perfect plans. Find the perfect outfit. Take the perfect vacation. Run after…
Any time you think that the outcome is sure–especially if you believe the outcome is certain based on your ability to perform the desired result to fruition–look out. That’s pride, and sooner or later it will take you down.
Am I doing the things that God designed me to do? Or am I unnecessarily adding labor that is apart from His will for my life? All that extra labor interferes with the abundant life that Jesus promised. We find ourselves asking God where He is when things get difficult.
I am in the habit of trusting my abilities, rather than Christ. Huh. That’s a sneaky form of self worship, don’t you think? In my former life, I would continually submit myself to a process doomed to failure because, by putting my faith in my abilities, I factored the Lord out of a critical equation. Ergo, my fear of failure sets me up for failure.