“Has anyone else noticed this? When you’re yearning for something you don’t have or have recently lost, it seems like it’s EVERYWHERE.”
Jordan Lee Dooley recently posted these words on Instagram, and my heart quickened in response, “Yes, I’ve definitely noticed that!”
This is a trivial example, but we purchased a used Jeep Rubicon less than a year ago, and it has spent more time in the repair shop than it has on the road (or on backcountry trails, which was the original dream) and now awaits the installation of a new motor after the original one burned up.
And, of course, it’s summer in the Colorado mountains, so what do I see all over town? Jeeps! One after another after another—every white Rubicon reminding me of what we don’t have.
Like I said, I know that’s trivial—only a minor inconvenience—but it got me thinking about other constant reminders.
Have you noticed how God repeatedly puts things in front of us to get our attention? Sometimes it’s a reminder, other times an invitation for something greater. Whatever His purpose, we know that when God repeats Himself, He’s telling us to listen up; there’s something important coming our way.
The most recent instance of this in my life began with a yearning to understand what it truly means to abide in Christ, which flowed into a desire for Christ’s humility, leading me to Paul’s letters to the Galatians and Philippians. An online Bible study arrived in my inbox, a friend posted a podcast link on Facebook, and my pastor recommended I read Andrew Murray’s writings—all resources pointing to the subject of pride and humility.
Thinking over the rapid-fire progression makes me chuckle. I threw my hands up in surrender, “Okay, God, I’m listening,” and prayed the unnerving prayer that He would humble me and reveal my pride.
Have you ever noticed how when you run hard after the things of God the devil starts hurling accusations at you, one after another after another?
I’ve definitely noticed this, but I don’t always catch onto his scheme immediately.
Especially when it’s a lie wrapped in a thin layer of truth.
My prayers and desire for crucifying pride and walking in humility were fervent; daily I asked God to search my heart and allow his Word to pierce as far as the division of soul and spirit, judging the thoughts and intentions of my heart (Hebrews 4:12, NASB). I accepted each illuminated prideful action, thought, or motive as an answered prayer, and I thanked God.
Then, without my recognition, fear entered. It sounded like, “If I finish writing my book and get it published, pride will overcome me,” or, “God won’t let my book get published because He knows it will only make me prideful.”
In hindsight, these accusations are blatant and ludicrous, but in the context of what I’d been praying, they carried just enough truth that I feared the outcome and doubted my path.
However, when the bombardment of prideful revelations began sprouting shame, my eyes were opened to the evil at work; I’ve lived too much of my life in bondage to the accusations of failure and what a horrible person I am and how I’ll never change that my soul is more readily aware of this tactic, and I refuse to let that yoke of slavery burden me again (Galatians 5:1, NIV).
“You will know them by their fruits.” (Matthew 7:16, NASB)
I don’t know what the enemy is accusing you of today, but let’s be alert to the fact that Satan can even twist the things of God, taking our very prayers of surrender and hurling them back at us as judgments and failures, intending to stop us in our tracks, to cause us to lose heart and give up.
God’s motive is love, to encourage us to keep moving forward in confidence that He who began a good work in us will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus (Philippians 1:6)