Powerlessness and the walk

Another Easter come and gone. The rain quit long enough for eggs to be hunted and for chocolates to be enjoyed. Attended a different fellowship for family reasons, and got reminded why I appreciate a smaller and somewhat quieter Sunday experience, but to each his or her own.

The rain has returned just in time for Monday, and I am still trying to wrap my brain around the concept of step one. Again. Powerlessness. In the streets of Jerusalem, Jesus chose to submit; he chose powerlessness. He, who had been with God at the start of the world. He knew the sins in each person’s heart as He drug the cross past them toward the hill.

That is the kind of powerlessness that I want to find. Even though I can grab hold of personal agency and power, I choose powerlessness and humility, allowing God to be the power in the moment. Acknowledging the fact He sees each sin and motive clearly, front to back. I may think I do, but that’s my pride talking.

Instead, He calls me to submit to His grace and wisdom, and not my own. Because my own best thinking and plotting got me into nothing but chaos and disaster. He offers peace, serenity and strength beyond what I can even understand. Because that’s what it took to get from Friday to Sunday that first Easter.

I daily make the choice to remain in His care as I walk. Grateful of all that I have been given, and of what has been withheld. Humbly seeking the wisdom and willingness to embrace the plans He has for me.

Much Love. ❤

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