A thousand problems on your shoulders, a million things needing your attention as you are pulled in a hundred different directions. Until you find yourself at the end of yourself… no way ahead, just a never-ending inky black chasm. Too late to go back. Nothing left to give. Your knees fall to the dusty road as exhausted tears slip from your eyes.
But perhaps this very spot was predestined for you. Like Jacob’s rock, and Moses’s bush perhaps this spot was created for you.
Maybe it takes reaching the point where we have nothing left to give, where we are powerless to do anything else- maybe it takes the breaking away of the illusion of control for us to reach the point that we see Him for what He truly is and find hope once more.
Maybe it takes the weathering of the storm, to knock away the things holding us back from Him and cut out the callused hard places in our hearts. Like glass tossed by the waves of the sea, it softens the sharp edges so when it comes out it is something new and beautiful.
Maybe it takes the storm driving us to the end of ourselves, a point we can’t do it on our own so that we reach a place that we have to take that first terrifying step in faith not knowing what will happen so that we can see through His eyes. Maybe it takes that first step trusting Him to realize that we’ve been in His hands the whole time. That even though we couldn’t see the other side, we were only stepping one palm to the other.
Perhaps it takes the breaking down to your knees beneath the pressure of the storm, to reach a point that we realize how much we need Him. Maybe it takes reaching the point that we have nothing left to recognize His overwhelming grace and our need for Him.
Perhaps its the very end of yourself, alone in the middle of the lake with the storm raging all around that we meet Him. Maybe it’s here, with nothing left to give, and nowhere left to go that we are finally ready to surrender the pen and allow Him to take over, turn the page and start a new chapter.
Perhaps the storm was placed there to remind us of our absolute need for Him. A reminder that we can’t do it on our own. Maybe it’s here in this moment, that we allow His reckless never-ending love to flood in. Perhaps the storm serves to empty us- pull back the hardened places, strip down the calluses and drain the wounds the wounds we’ve allowed to fester so that when we reach the end of ourselves He can step in and fill us with Himself.
Have you reached this point? At the end of yourself, with nothing left to give and empty hands?
I can’t help but think of Simon, He’d been out fishing all night long and caught nothing. He returns to the shore tired and empty-handed. His decks that He’d worked so hard to try to fill, empty- until Jesus stepped on to them.
Sometimes God lets us reach the end of ourselves- like Saul on the road to Damascus so that we can fall from our horses straight into His waiting arms. Sometimes it takes the shift between the illusion of control on horseback, to the end-of-yourself in the dust to change your perspective and hear His voice calling. Sometimes it takes falling to our knees with nothing left to realize He’s been with you the whole time. Chasing after you. Loving you. Calling you. It wasn’t until Saul became blind by worldly standards that he truly began to see.