Sometimes it takes the shattering of our world to see through the splintered pieces and know that when everything else has been broken, and all that’s left is simply God—then and only then can we really begin to live. Because there’s nothing left but this one truth: this unveiled and unashamed LOVE.

***

The door clicks softly behind me as I step into the dim-lit room. I sigh. It’s New Year’s Eve and it’s the eve of my silent battle. I grasp the dark green plug and pull the cord, let the light die—unplug the last light in my heart. The room darkens; sleep evades.

Firecrackers explode outside my window, shatter 2020 into pieces of the past, and His quiet words, they shatter my world and shatter my heart.

I’ve been hearing it for days, the same theme repeated again and again. He’s been quietly asking for my all—an entire surrender of myself. But its only days later that I find myself angry and frustrated, my plans being inconveniently delayed, my desires denied. And they say this is love? I stubbornly hold onto my limited understanding, stubbornly hold onto the suggestion that perhaps God is doing it all on purpose, just because He can. And I scoff at love. Because there is no love in such a belief. My mind plays over the ever-looming possibility of not just these plans being delayed, but of the whole rest of my year being ripped from my grip—again. I demand from Him promises to secure what I want. I want Him to promise me He won’t ask for more than what it seems He’s already taken. I want answers to my questions. And there in my wrestling He gently rebukes me.

“Are you ready to hear my answer? What if my answer is no?” I tremble and the tears run hot. No. I’m not ready to let it all go. No, no, no, God. My heart wages war. No, God. I’m not ready. He quietly persists. “What if I asked it all from you? What if I did ask you to let it all go—your passion and purpose and people? Yes, the very things I gave?”

Yeah, what if?

If this is His way, then I don’t want it. Yet even as I let the words spill from my lips, my heart knows otherwise. Because maybe it’s only a distorted belief that makes it so hard to let go and give myself in total abandon to Him. A distorted belief that He’s asking my all, only to lead me to a dead end. That He’s the kind of God that would take it all and run—abandon me to my own ruin. That He isn’t really love. Maybe it’s simply this misconception of who He is, that makes it so impossible to let go, this crude denial in a God of LOVE.

I wipe the tears from my eyes, ask for forgiveness, ask Him to correct my skewed vision and give me His eyes. Because though I can’t see through the darkness now, the scars in the palms of His hands testify that He is love. He’s daring me to bank my life off this one reality: that His core identity is LOVE. He’s asking me to let go and leave behind the misconceptions I’ve made and hold so tight.

It’s the voice of LOVE beckoning me to let go—to give myself in total abandon to the One who’s identity is LOVE. To let go and empty. To lay on the altar my selfish desires, my sinful nature. And not just these, but even to lay down the very passion and purpose LOVE has put in my heart. To empty and let go even of what He once gave.

Because this, and only this, is peace. It’s only as everything else is laid bare and emptied that one can begin to truly live, and only as we empty that LOVE can overflow.

Perhaps God doesn’t need so much your tears and words and prayers, as He needs a life sold out to God to bridge the gap and live the TRUTH—set others free by a living testimony of His LOVE.

He wants me. More than anything else, God needs lives. He wants you. Empty. Helpless. Dependent on His power. Dependent on His life. He doesn’t just want your year, your desires, your hopes, your joys, your sorrows, your plans, your prayers. He wants you.

Because He delights in you.

What if? Father, all for You.