“People who claim that they're evil are usually no worse than the rest of us... It's people who claim that they're good, or any way better than the rest of us, that you have to be wary of.”
― Gregory Maguire, Wicked: The Life and Times of the Wicked Witch of the West
JEREMIAH 46-48
JOURNAL
One of the most comforting truths in Scripture is that Jesus understands. He gets it, and he gets me. He knows what it is to face suffering, to feel sorrow, to be exhausted, and to want relief from what lies ahead. Hebrews invites me to approach him with confidence because he understands our weakness. I do not have to get myself together before coming into his presence. I can bring the fear, the resistance, and the uncertainty with me.
I see this so clearly in Gethsemane. Jesus knew what was coming, and he did not pretend it was easy. He was deeply distressed. He asked his closest friends to stay with him, and he prayed that, if possible, the cup might pass from him. There is something profoundly reassuring in that honesty. He did not hide his anguish from the Father or treat the desire to escape suffering as something he could not express. He brought it all into the relationship. Then he surrendered: “Not my will, but yours be done.”
This is the supreme example of what I am beginning to understand. I can tell God what I want. I can ask for a different road. I can admit that I am afraid and that I cannot see how things will work out. Then I can entrust what comes next to him and give myself fully to the moment before me. Jesus returned to prayer, and when the time came, he rose to meet those approaching him. His surrender took the form of action. He lived the next moment in obedience to the Father.
I spend so much energy trying to settle the future in my mind. I imagine what could happen, what I might lose, and what I need to accomplish to make everything turn out right. Sometimes I am so occupied with the outcome that I miss the life God has placed directly in front of me. In Gethsemane, Jesus shows me how to bring that burden to the Father. I do not have to feel calm before I can be faithful. I can feel the weight of uncertainty and still choose the next act of love, courage, or discipline.
That changes how I understand my purpose. I am here to discover and experience God through how I live. The work matters, and I want to give it my best. But I cannot ask accomplishment to establish my worth or guarantee my peace. Jeremiah's warning about trusting in deeds and riches reaches into that tendency in me. Even good work can become something I depend on to feel secure. I want to hold my plans with an open hand, willing to learn, willing to be corrected, and willing to follow where God leads.
My curiosity and desire to solve problems belong in this way of living too. I can approach the day eager to discover what can be learned, improved, or understood. There is joy in preparing a better lesson, working through a difficult idea, writing an honest scene, or finding a way to help someone. I get to participate in making things better while leaving their ultimate reach and results with God. Surrender frees me to be fully engaged in the work itself.
Father, thank you that I can come to you as I am. Thank you for Jesus, who understands our weakness and shows us how to trust you within it. Help me recognize when I am trying to control the future or use accomplishment to prove my worth. Bring me back to the life you have given me today. Help me meet its problems with curiosity, its people with love, and its responsibilities with discipline. When I am afraid, teach me to pray honestly and then take the next faithful step. Let me discover you here, in this moment, and entrust what follows to you.