When you have been in a fight you walk differently. Your overstretched muscles are sore, your hands and face are bruised, your mind reeling and your body exhausted. The relentless onslaught all but took you out, and you hold on to the very walls you were thrown against just to steady yourself.
Being pushed and losing your balance is one thing, but when you are knocked flat out you have to regain composure. When you are on your feet you can dodge, duck, you can see the blows coming and you are more nimble to escape them. When you are flat on your face you can’t see anything but the cold ground inches away from your nose, and you have to concentrate all your energy on just getting back up.
I recently got back up.
I experienced one of the biggest fights of my life and it left me breathless and scared, staring at the cold, hard floor. We are told to speak out, to claim God’s promises, to stand on His victory. On the darkest days, I didn’t have the words to cry out to the God I thought had forsaken me.
But I could worship.
I couldn’t utter a single note from my vocal chords, but I found my fingers playing chords on the piano or the guitar. Haunting melodies washed over me, and as I sat wondering how in the world I had found myself in this situation, the Holy Spirit kept stirring my heart and soothing my soul.
When you can’t lift your head, lift your voice.
Worship is a weapon. I was reminded of this at Cherish Conference last month. When you can’t lift your head, lift your voice. When you have no words, worship. When you cannot pray, praise. Whether you worship in a song, a dance, or in other creative expressions, open your bruised, battered heart to heaven and let God heal it.
Anger, disbelief, disappointment, devastation, grief, sadness, bitterness. A torrent of emotions that whipped around me and threatened to take me out. There was nothing left of me, all I had was Jesus. I shut my eyes against the raging seas that smashed against me and clung desperately to the rock, waiting for Him to pull me out.
When you are at your end, that’s when Jesus begins.
When I was face down, staring at the floor, broken and bleeding, that’s when Jesus did what I could not.
There is power in a prostrate posture. Sure laying out on the floor isn’t the least bit dignified, but it is powerful nonetheless. You may think that a broken heart is no use to a perfect God, but a submissive spirit is. By laying at His feet and saying “Lord I’m all out, I’m done in”, we are giving God permission to take our brokenness and make something beautiful, by His strength and power, not our own.
Perhaps you find yourself in a storm too, perhaps you are watching the clouds roll in ominously, maybe you are already in the waves, clinging to the rock by your fingernails, or maybe you are picking up the pieces of the chaos left in its wake.
We all have a story, a storm that we have battled through or are currently facing. But the beauty of storms is that even they have to obey Jesus. The winds and waves were created by Him, so when He speaks the storms stop. When He commands, the chaos ceases.
When He speaks the storms stop. When He commands, the chaos ceases.
And as children of God, heirs in Christ we too have the authority to speak to our storm. We can end our exhaustion, defy our desperation, by allowing Jesus to fill us with His strength; renew us, restore us and reshape us.
Wherever this finds you today, I want to encourage you that you are not alone. The One who flung the stars into space is right beside you. The One who rose from the dead will not let you sink. He will pull you out of the waves, He will call the waters to calm and He will walk you right through them.
You just need