God wants it all.
He wants all of me, every part. It’s with this idea that I wrestle, to one degree or another, every conscious moment. I squirm under the thought that a jealous God is satisfied with nothing less than everything. And in my squirming, I attempt to pacify God with bits and pieces of my heart thrown out as a bone to the Hound of Heaven.
But His love is relentless, unquenchable, consuming. He continues to come after me with everything that He is, asking for everything that I am. In this process of pursuit, He has revealed with a fierce gentleness a commonality in the things which keep me from Him. Things to which I cling with tenacity. Things which are stubbornly intertwined with my soul. He has shown me the idols I have cherished which have provided me with security, image, and identity.
Identity markers.
My list of markers is rather lengthy. It centers around the things in my life that give me a place among my peers and allow me to see myself as I want to be seen. Wife and mother, yes, those fundamental roles are included, as well as skilled cook, creative decorator, hospitable entertainer, helpful friend, intentional listener. Accomplished teacher, board member. Home group leader, worship leader, mentor. But the list goes much deeper. Servant, Godly woman, wise counselor, intercessor. Mother of understanding and insight. Wife of support and gracious influence. Faithful companion. Sacrificial, devoted friend. Intentional worshipper. The list goes on and on, moving further into the core of who I am, touching on the things that, from my own perspective, make me—me.
These things have been subtlety woven into a tapestry over many years, forming the fabric of my identity. Many threads are threads of calling, destiny. Many are threads of gifting and ability. Many are threads of personality. And many are threads of my own deliberate addition, influenced by the world and its standards.
It’s a crazy quilt, often patched together by raw pride.
And every once in a while, the Spirit gently reminds me of His invitation.
Come and live free.
Lay it all down to the wild abandon of finding that the greatest treasure is the pulsing vibrance of My Heart.
It’s always, forever, only Me.
And when He whispers with deepest grace that compelling call back to center, I’m reminded of His declaration to Abram in Genesis 15:1, “Fear not, Abram. I am thy shield and thy exceedingly great reward.”
I sit quiet and just mull over the heart of God found in that Father’s promise.
He is my shield.
He is my exceedingly great reward.
It’s that second declaration that really sticks. If HE is my great reward, what else is needful? Every rich strain of longing is satisfied in the depths of HIM. The need to BE something, someone. It’s only discovered when I embrace the I AM, for He is ALL.
Oh, His good gifts are good. His callings are right and true. And me… well, I’ve been crafted in His image, and He has declared His unconcealed pleasure in His creative efforts. The way He has knit me together is altogether delightful in His sight.
But only ONE thing is needful. And it’s desperately needed. I am called to lay down all of the markers—not so that I will be nothing, but so that I might be more as He is everything.
It’s that crazy, upside-down Kingdom way. To let it all go so that you might have more than everything.
I’m daily reaching to let go. And most days I fall so short, and I miss the goal, and I greedily fill my heart’s satchel with those treasured markers so that I can be propped up and pretend to be strong.
But I pray that more often now as the Spirit whispers His love-call to me, I will whisper back that sweet, surrendered yes. He shields me with His perfect care and I dive into my glorious reward.
HIM.
Special thanks to Rick Delanty who has granted permission to use his beautiful art in this post.
Into the Wilderness has just been published!
