Let go. Really let go. Trust you with everything. That’s what this life is. I trust you with everything, even when it’s scary. Especially then, actually.
How to actually do this, once things have gotten complicated, and I can no longer relate to you in that clean, simple way that I once could, back at the beginning, back when this all started out. Plot twist: I actually can. Nothing has changed between us. Nothing has ever had the power to change your commitment to me. You have chosen me, and I then chose you, and we are locked in this love, now and forever, this eternal dance of learning and peace.
All those perceptions of how I’ve screwed up, and how I’ve failed the tests, and how you’ve passed over me and found someone better…those are all the enemy’s ideas. Those are his whispers I hear, saying those things to my soul. I shouldn’t listen to them. I refuse to listen to them. I can identify them because of the vast difference between their overall vibe and the pure and simple love that you are, Jesus. Those lies feel cold and harsh. Your love is the opposite; gentle and warm.
I am swayed and troubled, because he uses your words to support what he says. He twists the Bible, and applies it to those whispered fears…but it’s the same old tricks that he used on you. He said, “But Jesus, the Bible says this: ________,” and you answered right back, “But you’re dumb, and this is what it actually means:________.” *
Help me to know your word like that, God. Help me to know it so thoroughly that, when the enemy tries to use it against me, I have something solid and familiar to resist it with. Help me in general. I need it so badly. I need you so much. I can’t do this without you.
Help me to really let go of everything I think I know, and to rest in your embrace. Help me to stay there. Help me to hate the things of the flesh, that draw me away, and that numb out my sensitivity to you. Help me to hear you more, and to feel you better.
* (In reference to the temptation of Christ in the wilderness — Matthew 4, Luke 4)
