Getting to the Root

Written by Bonnie Derksen

At the beginning of the Encounter God Retreat we were all encouraged to pray a simple prayer: “Lord what do you want to do in my life through this weekend?”

This question recognizes the reality of a compassionate Heavenly Father and essentially invites Him to be actively involved in our lives.

I had prayed and now stood among the many, waiting; anticipating God’s response.

Just when I began to think there might be something wrong with my hearing, He spoke:  I want to secure freedom for all of your tomorrows, to enable you to receive my love and trust me enough to have fun.

I blinked through fresh tears while recording this tender promise. Life had been uncertain in so many areas. Unpredictability seemed the pattern of each week fostering a somber, serious attitude. The idea of having fun didn’t even register on my radar screen.  

Jesus’ words, however, were wrapped in hope and with the presence of hope came a whisper that suggested I might even dare to dream again.

But then a nagging question surfaced, interrupting the peace - Why is it so hard to maintain balance in my life? Why the pattern of over commitment and burn out?

Later, in the quiet of a sanctioned prayer time, the Lord took me back to a high school hallway. Surprised by the random memory, I maintained the position of “observer” and watched a long-forgotten scene play out.

I stood before an open locker while my two best friends opened theirs to my immediate left. They laughed together about something and when I tried to join in, both became silent. Their response had become a pattern over the previous few days and now I begged them to tell me what I had done wrong, what I had said that caused them to ignore me. My pleas went unanswered, their hostility reinforcing the silence until they simultaneously slammed their locker doors and walked off, signaling the close of our friendship.

 I never spoke to either of them again.

Though I felt the sting of rejection as fresh as when it first happened, I also sensed the Lord’s comfort and as the sun breaks free from the horizon, illuminating the land below, Jesus, the Son, shone His light on a gnarly root in my life.

 As the father of lies, Satan had seized the opportunity to speak into my pain with his twisted and skewed perspective, planting insecurity and doubt deep in my heart. Given the chance, I would have crawled over broken glass to win those girls’ friendship back and now I realized I had embraced service to Jesus with a similar desperation. I had lived with the lie that I needed to work to ensure that my friendship with Him would not end in silence and ultimate rejection.

As one who enjoys gardening, I know the benefit of working the soil around the base of a stubborn weed that has had a chance to establish deep roots. I’ve witnessed the return of a flowerbed pest when there was no visible trace of the weed but in my haste, part of the root had broken away and was now continuing its pattern of growth and penetration.

Similar to the root of a virulent weed, the motivation behind my tendency to over commit was exposed by this memory and the lie I had subconsciously lived with: “I must work to keep Jesus’ love,” was replaced with His Truth: “I loved you before you ever started “doing” so just “be”.

 Accompanying this realization was a new energy and enthusiasm; I was excited to roll up my sleeves and get to the next unwritten season of my life.

Thankfully God, my Heavenly Gardener, understanding the process better than I and knowing His time frame to be effective, has nestled us in the supportive atmosphere of the Village.

Brand new in 2012 is the more intimate setting of Tribes (small home-based groups) and, with anticipation, we trust it to be the next step in the Lord’s plan for walking us into long-term freedom and fullness and allowing us to assist others while on our journey.

 “And I am sure that God, who began this good work in me, will continue his work until it is finally finished on the day when Christ Jesus comes back again.” (Philippians 1:6)