The master bedroom in my house is the kind of gorgeous you only see at a retreat center.
A wall of windows. All muted browns and iridescent blues. There’s a remote that raises the curtains so you can look out over the lake. If it was my room, I’d be hard pressed to leave it every morning. I’d probably turn on the fireplace, wrap up in a blanket and just stay for a while.
I spent some time there this morning with my mentorship group. It’s a small group, just the three of us, and we’re pretty close. It’s not unusual for one of us girls to have a small breakdown– to let our tears fall on shoulders and pillows as they will.
Today was no exception.
We prayed over her as she cried, and then listened as she interceded for herself. She’s a passionate woman of prayer, and at one point she said, through sobs–
“I just say “Yes, LORD.””
“What’s the Question?”
I’m so unwilling to give up control in this way, to say yes without first knowing what He wants of me. I am so unwilling to say the quiet, the unrestrained yes, without reading the contract all the way through, into the fine print. I want to know every angle. I want to understand every clause.
But Jesus doesn’t work that way. And the thing is, He shouldn’t have too.
What more do I need to know but that He loves me? But that He died for me? But that He came to give me abundant life now, here, and not only in some different, distant heaven?
I shouldn’t need anything more than that, if I really believe His promises and words.
But let’s be honest,this semester, I’ve been working through the bruises life’s left on my heart. I’ve spent a little time being angry with Jesus. I got angry for things I’ve never been angry at before.
I discovered, much to my surprise, that He’s okay with me being angry. I think He’d rather me be honestly angry than consciously hiding how I feel from Him.
And after the anger, I’ve found the chutzpah to actually trust Him, just a little bit at a time.
This week, I’ve found myself looking at my life with more openness. There’s a peacefulness that comes over me at the thought of making big decisions and saying big things and, generally, moving on with my life into the next season.
And I don’t know what that season looks like, honestly.
I want to give my heart without the fear of it breaking, because I know regardless of what happens, He’s holding it. I want to trust that since He’s led me to this place–even to the point of death–He is still the Messiah, the Holy One, and He Who Loves Me.
With that knowledge, I can become the kind of woman who says YES to the LORD first and asks what the question is later.