You split the sea so I could walk right through it.
You drown my fears in perfect love.
I was stumbling along my path today, just trying to make it to a moment when I could sit in the quiet and rest. It isn’t immediately apparent just how much I carry until I actually try to put it down, to put it to the side, or to pretend as though it doesn’t exist. We all have baggage, you know? People, events, things from our past that make their reappearance every so often.
I reached a moment in my path today where I lifted this baggage and looked at it in the face. I don’t want this stuff anymore, keeping me from running harder towards my Creator. It certainly makes me stronger, but it doesn’t serve me. It only serves the lies that make me think I don’t deserve to be loved by a King.
You know what I’m afraid of? I’m afraid that it’s my job to be the salvation, to be the answer to people’s problems, and if I can’t find that answer, no one will. I’m afraid that it’s my burden to love people the most.
Stumbling. Falling. The weight of it is too much.
I read something yesterday that wrecked my idea of the cross:
“Jehovah God, who spoke the world into being, thinks that your life is better than His Son’s. That’s why He laid down His life for you, so that you could be free to know a love that is better than life.”
I can’t love like that. I just can’t. I mess up too much, and I let people down too often. I lifted this baggage and looked at it and realized I was carrying a God-sized burden, a weight that He can handle gracefully. For years. I have been trying to love people in ways that isn’t possible.
I have been afraid to fail, but He’s already interceded on my behalf, in ways that I can’t fully comprehend. He loves deeper than I ever have or ever will. I’ve been searching for answers when the answer has been right here, saying, “Here. I can carry it all.” And He does. He split seas for me. He drowns my fears. He gave everything up for me. Oh Father, love the people I love just like that. Do it better than me.