What to do with “what if’s” (and how to fly)

The steam, it rises, curling toward ceiling, twirling past bricks. Hand wrapped ’round its warmth, I whisper prayers into my mug, breathing petitions all quiet to the One Who Hears.

We’d been working together, Father and I, laboring hard the last few weeks. Pressing in, as my friend and spiritual mother had said it. Pressing in to Him…

“He loves it when we’re desperate,” she’d said just days ago. “Loves it.” And hadn’t I felt the truth of it, how a heart’s desperation pulled Him right in? Drew His closest attention, brought Father God riding clouds and lightning to such a one as this?

I’d finally prayed the prayer. Written the check, left it blank. Standing, toes curled on the edge of the cliff, right there came the words: “Whatever it takes.”

Holy discontent. Holy desperation. Bald, bottom-of-the-barrel, there’s-nothing-else faith said it plain: “Whatever it takes to bring this stronghold down.  You have my permission.” And I’d jumped.

I’m in the middle of this particular chapter. And here, I must be honest and tell you that it’s not gotten easier. In fact, the fire’s gotten hotter. This is war, after all, and you’d better know that for sure. To ignore it is folly; means danger, defeat.

But it also means deliverance. For I’m starting to see that what satan means for evil, He turns it to good. Before your very eyes.  I’m beginning to learn in real time, having jumped off the cliff, how the very things that are meant to take you out are used to build you up. To set you free. To tear those strongholds down. To renew your mind and reset old, awful defaults.

The “what if’s” that used to be one of mine? Those horrid imaginings of the worst possible outcomes? They’re not bigger than God. He’s not ruled by them. They, and every other foul thing that exalts itself above the knowledge of God – they must bow the knee.

Now, instead of focusing on the “what if’s,” I’m learning tofocus on what is. What God is doing. Who He is. What He’s saying, and where He’s going. It knocks the teeth right out of the old lion of fear, rendering him powerless.

Now, you. You, dear friend, with your own “what if’s.” Your own strongholds. Your own ugly defaults, know this:  He loves your desperation. You can trust Him with a check that’s blank. You can uncurl your toes and leap off the cliff. You can let it go…and you can fly!

What if that, my friend? What if that?