I’d always thought him a giant. Kind of an untouchable for God who never feared, never wavered, always hoped.
But a little story changed all that. I heard he’d been burned by a member of his church he pastored, and from that point on, he spent his pastoring years trying to prevent getting burned again. Afraid, he resorted to control.
I wonder how much I’m like him. How, when I get hurt by a friend, I cocoon myself until I’m hidden from everyone. Safe. Painfree. Alone. I wonder just how big the walls I’ve created have become. Do they reach past my heart? My head? How thick? And is the cement binding? Will anyone dare to scale the wall? Or will I spend my life like my pastor friend, sealed away, relying on control to keep people far away?
I don’t want to live by fear. My heart is longing again for deep, abiding friendships. Though there are times I’d rather hide away and lick my wounds, I know that to have the depth of relationship I long for, I have to risk. And the risk is worth it.
So may it be that 2007 is my year for risk, even when I’m scared. Oh Jesus, help me to risk, to trust, to encourage, to hope. Instead of relying on my own paltry control, may I relinquish it to the One who created me, who loves my heart though I falter.