“Come on Daddy! Walk faster!”

I recently had a passing conversation with a couple friends about what the importance of kneeling before God. Coach mentioned that she didn’t really remember ever really getting on her knees to pray & Mrs. Bear agreed it was not something she regularly did.

 This exchange has been ruminating in my mind since; several questions have been bouncing around all week. Is it important? What does it mean? Do people really do it? Do I really have to?

I mean come on… it’s just uncomfortable. It cuts off the circulation to my feet and leaves weird carpet marks on my knees and makes me stick my butt out all weird. What if people see? Is it really something that I’m missing in my relationship with Christ?

Then this morning in my devotion I re-read Ephesians 3:14-19 (MSG) and my perspective shifted.

Here, read it…

 ^14-19My response is to get down on my knees before the Father, this magnificent Father who parcels out all heaven and earth. I ask him to strengthen you by his Spirit—not a brute strength but a glorious inner strength—that Christ will live in you as you open the door and invite him in. And I ask him that with both feet planted firmly on love, you'll be able to take in with all followers of Jesus the extravagant dimensions of Christ's love. Reach out and experience the breadth! Test its length! Plumb the depths! Rise to the heights! Live full lives, full in the fullness of God.

We bow because we love Him. We get down on our knees (or sometimes our faces) and prostrate ourselves before God as a sign of submission. We humble ourselves and let go of everything we are and everything we feel we deserve and say, “Here God, have it… take every single part of me.”

In this fast, I find I am constantly failing. I am growing yes, I am being stretched and changed but I also fail - with a capital “F”.

Saying you are leaning on God for strength and actually leaning on Him are two very different things. Every day I find another area where I’m trying to accomplish things in my strength.

I love & hate this.

I love it because it means I’m growing and I’m listening more and more to the HS. I hate it because it means I have to change yet again. I have to bow down, give that part of me to Him, open that door and let Him in to that area of my heart.

In her book Hearing From God Each Morning Joyce Meyer says “People who are self-sufficient often think depending on God is a sign of weakness. But the truth is that by drawing on the ability of the HS, they can accomplish more in their lives than they ever could by working in their own strength”

(I know I’m stuck on this “His strength/my strength” kick lately but I just can’t help it. God is revealing more and more to me each day so if you’re bored with my rantings take it up with Him.)

When we humble ourselves, listen to the HS and allow Him in we find that “glorious inner strength” that Paul was talking about in Ephesians. We really, honestly, truly do not have the strength to face the things of this world.

We can’t help it! It’s how we were made. We were created to worship and depend on God. And He wants us to do it! It doesn’t bother him that I come to him day after day, time after time and ask for more strength, more forgiveness.

He loves it.

He loves me.

He wants me, all of me, every part.

So I try. I fail, but I try.

I walk beside God, hand in hand, like a little girl and her Father. He knows the speed I need to keep because there are cracks in the pavement. He is tall and wise and can see the path ahead so He keeps a steady pace. But I’m anxious; I’m excited & I feel like He’s moving to slow.

I pull on His hand, “Come on Daddy! Walk faster!” But He keeps His stride. So I pull and I press on and I pick up speed and let go of his hand.  He loves me enough to let me too. So I run and I’m happy and I’m excited and I don’t pay attention and I miss the crack in the sidewalk.

I fall. I bump my knee and it hurts. It stings and I’m bleeding. I fell in front of everyone and I’m embarrassed. I try to be brave but this pain really hurts and there are people looking. So I cry.

God walks up beside me, stoops down and holds me in His arms and comforts me. “It’s ok… I’ve got you now.” With love he wipes the tears from my eyes, kisses my forehead & bandages my wounds. We start to walk again, my little girl hand in His big, strong Daddy hand.

Someday I’ll learn. Someday I’ll recognize the soft squeeze of His hand and the gentle warning that I’m speeding up. I’ll hear his voice and feel the love and recognize that He knows best.

I cannot wait for that day.

Until then I will get on my knees. I will ask for strength. I will humble myself, die to my desires and let Him in. Let Him in so much that I feel I may burst. I will listen for His gentle warnings and I will surrender my desires for His will.

love. love. love.