Jesus does not ask for much. He only wants everything.
By Dawn Hill
For the past few weeks, I have been struggling to find the words to describe what I have been experiencing and sensing. Though I know in ministry it is not kosher to bear our souls to one another publicly, I believe that our transparency and vulnerability with wisdom is necessary. We the church, myself included, have become experts at suppression and mask adorning, so much so that we do not know what it feels like to have the breath of God blow across our being as we are set free from the masquerade of it all, and we are called to remain with Him past the proverbial stroke of midnight. I extend an invitation to you in this thing called holy discontentment.
I am not okay, but now I know why. It is not neither a personal problem, nor unresolved insecurity. I am not angry or bitter. For lack of a better term, I “feel” like a lion pacing in a cage, a lion waiting for the door to open to the vast open spaces. Intimacy with Jesus has been a garden that I have cultivated in my own life for several years now. His Presence is everything to me, and no price is too high to pay. It is foolish for any of us to think that we have reached a place in our walk with the Holy Spirit where the pinnacle of intimacy has been achieved. When we choose that as our “truth”, we will stop romancing Jesus, and we will ignore His call to come closer.
I speak for myself when I say that there is a place in this garden where I have yet to enter, a place where even more will be asked of me. Jesus does not ask for much; He only wants everything. In and of myself, I perceive little value to offer, but thankfully, His truth wins over my perception. Our everything returned to Him is beautiful before Him. Do you know that God calls you beautiful and that your life surrendered to Him is a sweet fragrance?
My beloved speaks and says to me: “Arise, my love, my beautiful one, and come away,”- Song of Solomon 2:10
For we are the aroma of Christ to God among those who are being saved and among those who are perishing, -2 Corinthians 2:15
Can I be honest?
Something has shifted within me. I couldn’t shake it if I wanted to shake it. There’s a longing within that is tired of the expected and the predictable. There is a grief that grips me as I acknowledge irreverence and absent consecration in our midst. The depths of God are crying out to the depths of God within me, leaving me unsettled and wanting more of Him. As someone who with all humility is familiar with deep intimacy with Christ, I recognize the invitation to not be familiar in the intimate, and frankly, I had grown familiar.
I look toward the holiness of His splendor, and though it costs me my comfort and my pride, I am drawn to Him. Programs and performance cannot hold my attention. I see prophetic words lingering in the shallows, dancing around the feet of the church. They make a nice foam, but they wash out in the waves while God is wanting to release the deep boom from uncharted depths, utterances that shake everything that can be shaken.
Please hear me when I say this as I know it will upset some, but I say this with the fear of the Lord and without condemnation: many are remaining in a semi-comatose state from feasting on sugar coated messages and prophetic utterances, neglecting to see that there is a call to intimate pursuit while we carry our cross and die to ourselves.
There is a desire within for the more, past the shallow waters of all we have grown familiar with in this thing we call, ministry. I battle with doing what everyone else is doing because that is the “thing” to do if you want to get ahead. Self promotion takes a welcome backseat to Jesus. I find myself thinking, “I did not leave my profession only to climb another ladder of success.” The only ascension I desire is the one to come up higher and to behold His glory. My God, create in me a clean heart!
I feel restless in the mundane. I am ready to embrace the uncomfortable, the awkward, the unfamiliar, the radical, and the inconvenient. I recognize the stirring of many waters within me, and I know this more is not just for me, but it is for the entire body of Christ. “You want to do something new, Jesus. Why am I restless?” As I ask Him, “What is wrong with me?”, I hear Holy Spirit respond, “You have holy discontentment. The only cure is My Presence.” That is all I needed. I never heard the lock turn, but I know that I am free to go further into the garden, into the deepest places where He resides. The cage was all an illusion. The only one keeping me from the uttermost depths of intimacy with God was myself.
Discontentment is a “lack of satisfaction with one’s possessions, status, or situation.” We need holy discontentment to grip the bride of Christ, a lack of satisfaction for the level of God possessing us. We need a holy discontentment in our current status and situation with regards to our personal relationship with Jesus Christ. You do not need to wait for an angel to stir the waters. Stir the waters yourself! Going from faith to faith and glory to glory requires intimacy with Him. He beckons us to not be satisfied with status quo and pseudo righteousness. I pray that a holy discontentment grips you in such a way that the only thing that matters is His Presence and Him glorified. I am not okay, but now I know why.
Dawn Hill is a prophetic voice and writer known as the Lovesick Scribe. Her ministry focuses on passionately pursuing the Bridegroom while encouraging others to do the same. She serves at Impact HUB in Bristol, Virginia, training and equipping fellow believers to hear the voice of God and to function in the gift of prophecy. She resides in Virginia with her husband and daughter.
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