What do you think you’re doing?

Sometimes I’m asked do things for which I have no logical explantation why I’m doing it.

That’s hard for me. I’m analytical and systematic. I love to understand and am a person of endless questions.

But when God leads in my heart to do something that has no explanation and exposes me before others, leaving me open to potential misunderstanding, I falter.

This has happened again and again until I’ve realized recently that each time I’ve decided to obey despite my fear, something crazy awesome happens and not only am I blessed, but so are others.

So I’ve come to this conclusion: I don’t care anymore if I’m right or wrong. I just want to obey.

With Palm Sunday yesterday, I’m reminded of a word God gave me recently regarding faith and obedience. God was asking me to do something that was uncomfortable given the visible circumstances. I felt it exposed me and was kinda odd, so as I laid down to sleep I wanted a word from the Lord to confirm, and I somehow “randomly” hit up Mark 11. This was the word:

Jesus sent two of them on ahead. “Go into that village over there,” he told them. “As soon as you enter it, you will see a young donkey tied there that no one has ever ridden. Untie it and bring it here. If anyone asks, ‘What are you doing?’ just say, ‘The Lord needs it and will return it soon.’

Exactly what I needed. Jesus spoke and told them to do something. The disciples didn’t know why they had to, though I’m sure they were fine with initially doing what he said. The opposition and test, though, came when the everyday observers and friends said, “What in the world are you doing?” 

And that’s where faith is tested. People are going to think and say, “Uh, what are you doing? That makes no sense.” And often all I can say is, “Jesus wants me to.” I have to have enough faith to walk forward with his words alone because that is my reality.

The thing is, if the disciples had caved under the fear of man and that pressure, they would have never taken that colt, they never would’ve brought it to Jesus to use, they never would’ve gotten to lay their garments down for Jesus, and Jesus never would’ve had his triumphal entry through the city where the people worshipped, “Hosanna! Praise God! Blessed is he that comes in the name of the Lord!”

All over a small colt. And an unashamed act of obedience. He asks for small acts of faith in the midst of misperceptions all around me.

Here’s what I learned: obey his voice. Always. Because he’ll take my small colt and ride in triumph over my circumstances and my life and my city and conquer!

God, I almost always don’t understand. But, you know, that’s ok. And I proclaim that I am committed to following your voice. I will obey because I love you and you are worth my life and your commands are always for good. And you always bless my obedience! I lift my life up and place it in your hands. I ask for nothing out of “deserving” or cling to something that rightfully belongs to you. You can take or leave it; it doesn’t matter. Because I know all you have is mine anyway; I’m a child, not an orphan. Keep creating my life into something beautiful. I can’t see the complete work of art yet, but that’s because I’m not the artist.