I have recently found myself in the midst of a tremendous amount of transition. I've moved to a new city, into a new house, and started a new job. Yet, none of this has been the biggest transition. For over a year, the Almighty has been speaking to me. His promise to make all things new (Rev. 21:5), to make me new. Behold, I will do a new thing; do you not now perceive it? I will make a way in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. (Is. 43:19)
He is faithful. New life has begun leaping up within me in this time of transition. New friendships, new Spotify playlists, new works of art, new favorite coffee shops, allin a series of weeks that have been anything but calm. The most important transition has been the one I’m finding in my own heart. The Almighty is inviting me into a new perspective to live from, and it has radically changed the way I pray and live, and has brought an incredible amount of peace to this stormy heart.
He is teaching me about my own littleness. How I am every bit as sick as any leper He met in Judea, and every bit as poor as the blind beggars. Even writing this, I recognize that it doesn’t sound like this would bring anyone peace. And I’ll be honest, it wasn’t exactly the new life I was looking for or expecting. Because it shouldn’t make sense. How can I be strong when I am weak? How can I find life in letting mine go? But even now I am falling in love with my littleness. Every step I take in this poverty has been one of dependence and humility, things the world tells you are weak, yet I have found a new life here I was never expecting.
Self-centered pride breeds dissatisfaction, but even more so it breeds fear. Self-reliance, control, perfectionism are all forms of running from our weakness. And in some ways, it’s running from the truth, because we truly are weak, broken, and in need of healing. Pride wants us to hide our poverty, creating the fear of others finding out how truly imperfect we are. It’s like drinking sea water. You think it will give you what you desire but you only end up thirstier. Too often I find myself desperately gulping down sea water as if my life depended upon it. Living for my own glory and needing to have it all together, be perfect, and hide my weaknesses.
When I remember how little I am, how much I depend on His mercy and love, my heart finds rest. Fear dissolves because I am no longer running from my own brokenness. The new life He’s been promising is coming in a shift from the world’s perspective to that of the truth.
The truth is I cannot heal myself, free myself, or make myself happy. I cannot make myself new, anymore than I can walk on water. But I don’t need to be afraid of this because the truth is also that I have a Father who loves me, will never leave me, who is faithful and is even now making me new. Beyond this I am learning even to love this poverty, because if I wasn’t little I wouldn’t need a Father, and what a shame it would be not to have Him.