The Peculiar Flow

I’ve read the scriptures.

I’ve heard the scriptures.

I may have even had moments where I thought, I love that for whoever that’s for.

And if I’m being completely transparent, there were times I read some of those promises the same way I’d read a beautiful fairytale.

Nice story.

Beautiful ending.

Wonderful idea.

But somewhere in the last few days, something settled in me:

Those scriptures are as true as the Yah I serve.

When He says He gives beauty for ashes, He means it.

When He says He gives the oil of joy for mourning, He means it.

When He says He renews your mind, He means it.

When scripture says that anyone who is in Christ is a new creation, that is not poetic language meant to sound good in a sermon.

It is reality.

And I realized something else:

Janiece, as I knew her, died.

It was a beautiful death.

A necessary one.

Because the Janiece standing here now was raised with Christ.

And baby, resurrection comes with benefits.

Not the kind the world advertises.

Not money, ease, perfect circumstances, or a life where nothing ever hurts again.

I’m talking about the kind of benefits Galatians describes as the fruit of the Spirit:

Love.
Joy.
Peace.
Patience.
Kindness.
Goodness.
Faithfulness.
Gentleness.
Self-control.

And for the first time, I’m not just reading that list.

I’m living it.

I experience joy.

Not temporary happiness.

Not “today went well, so I feel good.”

Not a peace that disappears the second something goes wrong.

I mean a joy that feels planted somewhere deeper than circumstances.

A joy anchored in eternity.

A joy that has shown itself even while life is still very much…lifing.

I had a conversation recently where I literally had to stop and correct someone.

Like, wait.

You do understand I’m going through things too, right?

Life did not suddenly become perfect for me.

I didn’t wake up one morning and all my problems disappeared.

I’m going through things too.

You just may not be able to tell because of who I’m going through them with.

There’s a difference.

My circumstances didn’t magically become flawless.

My mind became renewed.

My focus changed.

My anchor changed.

My understanding of power changed.

So when problems show up, I don’t automatically bow to them anymore.

I know they have limits.

I know Yah does not.

Some days my faith probably looks delusional to people.

And I’m okay with that.

Because when I know the power of God, I no longer have to give every problem the power of my attention, my peace, my sleep, my identity, my imagination, and my future.

That doesn’t mean I ignore reality.

It means reality is no longer my god.

Yeshua is.

For years, I thought this kind of joy was either a fairytale or something reserved for the spiritually elite.

The people who had been saved forever.

The people who knew all the scriptures.

The people who never struggled.

The people who somehow seemed more “holy” than everybody else.

But I was wrong.

This is available to me.

And it’s available to you.

It is completely free.

But it will cost you everything.

Contradictory, I know.

Let me explain.

Salvation is a gift.

Grace is a gift.

The love of God cannot be purchased.

There is no amount of striving, performing, sacrificing, pretending, or religious perfection that could ever earn what Christ freely gives.

So in that sense, it cost me nothing.

But surrender?

Surrender required everything I kept trying to protect.

I had to unclench my hands from ropes I had been gripping for dear life.

Plans.

Goals.

My gifts.

My heart.

My image.

My timelines.

My expectations.

My need to understand.

My need to control.

My mind.

I held onto some of those things because I was terrified that if I loosened my grip, everything would fall apart.

What I didn’t understand was that I was exhausting myself trying to hold together things I was never created to sustain.

So I surrendered.

And in exchange, I began discovering treasures that cannot be manufactured by this world.

Peace.

Joy.

Rest.

Clarity.

Love.

A renewed mind.

A heart becoming cleaner.

A soul that is finally learning how to exhale.

All found in accepting Christ for who He truly is:

My Redeemer.

And you know what?

Maybe the world did get one thing right when it said believers give up their power and become “brainwashed.”

Because yes.

My brain got washed.

My mind got renewed.

My heart is being purified.

My soul has found rest.

My joy has been restored.

My peace no longer depends on everything around me behaving.

Call it whatever you want.

I know what I used to carry.

And I know what I carry now.

So thank You, Yah.

For the joy.

For the peace.

For the love.

For showing me that Your promises were never an overstatement.

If anything, they were the minimum description of a life fully surrendered to You.

I thought surrender would leave me empty.

Instead, it made room for everything I had been praying to feel.

And that may be the greatest surprise of all:

I gave Him everything and somehow walked away with more.