It was the first Saturday of 2022 when a daily devotional suggested listeners ask the Lord if we were carrying anything into the new year that didn’t belong to us. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t this…

The words piercing my heart came gently, wrapped in tender love and a ribbon of peace. Feeling deeply heartbroken and repentant, I understood what the Holy Spirit meant; I knew it was a gift of writing. For years He had confirmed through people what He first seemed to whisper into my heart, so I had no good reason not to believe Him.

This battle over the gift was nothing new; indeed it had ebbed and flowed in my mind for a long time. “I won’t know what to write”, “It won’t be perfect”, “I can’t do it” were among well-rehearsed excuses, an echo shouted by the one who asked in the garden: Did God really say…? (See Genesis 3:1)

I might try to justify my reluctance to trust and obey my Lord, but I’ve learned being honest and real with Jesus leads to increasing freedom for me. Indeed, the discipline—an act of love from our beloved Father—opened the door for me to experience life-giving freedom in Christ. 

Freedom: to rest in Jesus; to flow in the wind of His Spirit; to relax and enjoy Him; to experience the joy of obeying our beloved Lord free of the fear of man and intimidation; freedom from the crippling anxiety of not being perfect. Let it be, Lord! 

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