A Free Fall

Matthew 6:25-34 is forever a favorite Scripture of mine. This passage has indelibly marked my memory with the first time I can vividly recall being drawn to a particular Scripture out of nowhere – the first time I really felt God was speaking directly to me. It was December of 2008 and I had been calling Nashville, TN home for a year and a half post-college graduation. Let’s just say I was entrenched in a particularly unstable period of my life, not quite sure where the next paycheck was going to come from. I was very much feeling the gravity of my free fall, and beginning to panic, bleeding worry. Two things usually help me clear my head in such conditions, going for a run or taking a drive. I opted for the latter.

Words that Resonated

Grabbing my purse and keys, I headed for the door of my apartment and began to make my way down the stairs to my car in the parking lot. About halfway down the steps I experienced a strange nagging to go back upstairs and read my Bible. That idea, “go back upstairs and read your Bible” was impressed so fervently in my mind I couldn’t help but pause.

My first thought was, “Huh? Read my Bible?” Followed by, “what exactly should I read in my Bible?” as no particular Scripture was coming to mind to accompany that command. In full disclosure, at this point in my life, reading my Bible was not something I did much of (if at all) to be quite frank. Surely I had toted my Bible around with me to each place I had previously lived, but the paperback cover was still in pristine condition and the pages were untattered, unmarked and virtually untouched if that tells you anything about how peculiar this notion of stopping everything and returning to my apartment to read my Bible was to me at that time in my life.

Ultimately I concluded, “what do I have to lose?” and turned to go back up the stairs wondering which Scripture I was to read. I found my Bible and began to open it although it seemed to open itself to a spread where I had inserted a greeting card my sister recently mailed me. In the card, she had included a Scripture verse. When I had received the card I read the Scripture she referenced and then stuck the card in those pages of my Bible, closed it and put it back on the shelf to collect dust once again. Now as my Bible popped open to that page I was instantly drawn to a different Scripture on the neighboring page. I had tunnel vision for Matthew 6:25-34.

Dependence on God

“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat [or drink], or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothing? Look at the birds in the sky; they do not sow or reap, they gather nothing into barns, yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are not you more important than they? Can any of you by worrying add a single moment to your life-span? Why are you anxious about clothes? Learn from the way the wildflowers grow. They do not work or spin. But I tell you that not even Solomon in all his splendor was clothed like one of them. If God so clothes the grass of the field, which grows today and is thrown in the oven tomorrow, will he not much more provide for you, O you of little faith? So do not worry and say, ‘What are we to eat?’ or ‘What are we to drink?’ or ‘What are we to wear?’ All these things the pagans seek. Your heavenly Father knows that you need them all. But seek first the kingdom [of God] and his righteousness, and all these things will be given you besides. Do not worry about tomorrow; tomorrow will take care of itself. Sufficient for a day is its own evil.

It was as though this Scripture passage was begging me to read it. As I read it, I clung to every word as my eyes and mind absorbed the message. When I finished reading I sat on my bed awestruck as peace flooded over me. “Woooow!” It was undeniable, this was no doing of my own. The urge I had to read my Bible as I was leaving my apartment was most certainly God snatching my attention. It made me wonder how many times He had tried previously while I ignored Him. This was no doubt Him speaking to me and providing me a great measure of peace during a time I had felt anything but at peace, and was most definitely lacking in faith.

A God that Keeps His Promises

I held that Scripture passage in my heart over the following weeks and guess what? God did provide. He brought me peace about the unknown, reminding me He already had everything worked out (and He did). It was a gentle invitation to seek Him, as though He was saying, “Hey I miss you. I want you to come to me. Will you spend time with me?”

That experience altered something within me. It began to stir up change inside of me. It made me realize I was a lazy Christian, and being a lazy Christian isn’t really being much of a Christian. It was a turning point for me, recognizing my formula for life couldn’t sustain itself. I hadn’t been seeking God in my life, instead I was just acknowledging Him when it was convenient while striving to live my own will in pursuit of worldly things rather than seeking God’s will for my life.

Being Seen and Known

It was a very simple moment in time, still deeply impactful. God was speaking to me. This meant He not only saw me and knew what I was going through, but He also cared about me. God was showing me He knew me personally, knew my past and my future, and was still pouring out His peace upon me. His was an invitation to peace, but that invitation was married to a request to trust Him and to build a relationship with Him.

You can’t really experience something like this and brush it off. It was a great reminder not of who I am, but of whose I am. When we know who we belong to, we have no need to worry, no need to fear. When we realize we are a beloved part of the Creator’s creation we are able to rest in the peaceful assurance that we have a God who knows and loves us, a God who has a fruitful future planned FOR us. Do you know whose you are?

Do not worry. Your heavenly Father knows what you need. Seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and your needs will be heard and fulfilled.

Have no fear,
Jackie