I’m exhausted of living emotionally.
But I want to live wholeheartedly. There’s a difference between living in your emotions and living in your heart.
When I live in my emotions, I am a tumbleweed, clouted by every breath of wind.
When I live in my heart, I am a deeply-rooted vine.
One is easy to mistake for the other, because both involve desire; desire, I’ve come to believe, is the one thing I own.
I recently took a trip in which everything I believe about God and myself was held under a magnifying glass. Not in a curious-to-see-details-up-close way but a young-boy-trying-to-burn-an-insect way.
I scrambled to stand on the Rock while my accessories crumbled into a landslide, and with the wreckage and dust, my desire.
It is a miserable thing to misplace desire, but that is when I discovered how much I truly believe in a God whose truth never shifts, even when my feelings do.
Especially when my feelings do. Is God enough when I can’t feel joy, or freedom, or an ounce of affection, or desire to pursue him? Are all things true of his heart enough to sustain me when I am confused or hurting, or even worse, when I am apathetic or numb?
Trust. Obedience. Based on our journey of affection, healing, and freeing, do I trust his heart enough to obey in the season when my desire betrays me?
If I allow myself to be steered by the rudder of my emotions, I run the risk of trying to make God into who I want him to be, and my emotions will commit mutiny. I will find this ship run aground, dashed upon my landslide of God-additions.
I’m coming for you, he told me the other night, as I walked quiet city streets.
It is a sweet wind on salty, high seas. There is nothing for me to do except release the ship’s wheel. There is nothing I can do in the trusting.
This is where he shows me that I am holding the right compass and he will blow me home.
This is where he shows me I am not God.
This is where I find his Godship is a better rock than the one thing I own.