Precious Daughter of the King

As far as my spiritual life goes, this year has been mostly about trying to reconnect with the truth of who God is. I have spent many days pondering His existence, His love, and the reality of His power in my life. I have not at all times been convinced of each of these things; my sinful nature unfortunately creates this insatiable need to be in control of my own life and thereby ignore God. I have really lost the ability to see Him very much, other than experiencing an intense connection with Him when singing praise and worship songs in church.

Two Sundays ago, I was reminded of His power.

For the first time in a few months (since beginning my hostess job), I was able to go to church. Jonathan had to work that day, so I came alone and sat on the aisle next to dear friends from our church young couples group. I was so relieved and at peace to finally be able to be at church, where I knew God would speak to me in ways He does not when I am home on my couch.

During the first few moments of the service, our pastor, Randy, began to talk about a man named Barnabas in the Bible. Baranabas, he said, means "Son of Encouragement." My mind began to wander, as it often does when provoked with good thoughts, and I wondered how many people out there actually live up to what their name means. I pondered my own name, Sarah, which is translated from the Hebrew word for "princess". I'm definitely not royalty of any kind, and I wouldn't be caught dead in one of those pretentious looking tiaras even on my wedding day....but I am the daughter of a king. I'm the daughter of the King, in fact. Probably not why my mother gave me that name, but I still managed to live up to its meaning when I chose to follow Christ.

Service continued. During the first prayer, a few moments were offered during which we prayed for our own individual needs. I remember consciously ignoring my desire to pray for a supernatural experience or for divine knowledge and instead simply asking God to teach me who He is. It was communion Sunday, which is my favorite because we spend so much time singing and reflecting. For me, there is no better way to connect with God in an emotional way. After making my way to the front of the room for communion, I knelt on the cushy kneeler and sang a few more lines before motioning to recieve the bread and wine.

My sin is all I have to give
I lay it at your feet and find I live

Randy (our pastor) happened to be the person serving communion at the spot I knelt at. He approached me when I gave a slight nod, and offered me the bread and wine with these words:

"A new name he has given you: Precious Daughter of the King."

And then I cried. I cried because I suddenly knew that God had heard me...He had listened, and answered a question I had forgotten that I had asked. He showed me not only who He is - a God who hears - but who I am as well.

Again and Again

There was a small period of time during which I fully trusted God. I remember the essence of those two short months--sweet peace, slight nervousness, deep breaths, and high hopes. I had just moved to Nashville, and I had nothing to distract me. No roots, no history, and barely a social life. God was my Source of truth, and especially my Source of guidance. With nothing and no one else to affect my decisions in life, He had full control over His child...and I learned what it felt like to not have to worry, for two short months.

I guess that makes me understand a little better why some people choose to live their lives out in complete solitude, all monk-ed out in robes and silence. It's so easy--and so richly fulfilling--to be alone with God. You can ask the questions and actually hear the answers, instead of a thousand voices in your mind that each want to please a different part of your busy life. Oh, the voice of God! I've forgotten what that sounds like! Even now, struggling to remember the taste of it all, I know that giving all control to Him tasted better than anything I could plan for myself.

And yet.

I sit here on my bed, fingers and toes freezing (which is completely off the point), trying to figure out the loopholes in that inescapable Call of God.

"Trust in Me and do good; delight yourself in Me and I will give you the desires of your heart. Commit your way to Me; trust in Me and I will do this."

You want me to WHAT? Trust You?? Suddenly, with all the voices competing for my attention in my life, trusting God is not so easy. Neither is giving up the things that are muffling His voice. See, I think I try hard--very hard--not to listen to God when I know I am choosing to follow my own way. I know His way is better. I know His way could never harm me. But, I doubt highly that His way results in my happy ending. Oh, it ends in "a" happy ending--just not the one I've been meticulously planning throughout all of my purposeful sin.

Every time I choose to be what I want to be, I somehow manage to forget that I am not the only one who knows and is capable of fulfilling the deepest desires of my heart. My sin is simply a representation of the fact that 9 days out of 10, I just don't believe enough in the power of the God I love. I've convinced myself that only I can fulfill my wildest dreams, that I am in charge. As a result, I'm afraid to speak to the God whose only wish is for me to come to Him.

Does this sound familiar? I think it happens to all of us, and the only cure is Surrender.

I have to decide if I'm willing to do that. Again. And again. And again....and again......