More than two years ago these words, holy confidence, were laid on my heart. I knew it was something God was inviting me into.
After searching for years for self-confidence and coming up short, still filled with shame and insecurity, I knew there must be a different way.
I was tired of relying on my performance, acceptance from others and successes for confidence. As we know, that “version” of confidence is always fleeting.
I knew God had a new way for me to live and move and breathe — in him. Him in me. Holy confidence is a soul-knowing place. It stirs deep in us when we begin to believe in our hearts all the things we have known in our minds about God.
It is an experience of grace as we step out in faith and trust Jesus. It’s finding out his promises are in fact true and beginning to live accordingly.
I don’t like the word “test,” but testing is really what happens when we step out in radical trust and find him offering peace and joy in the middle of this rocky road called life.
We find his love never fails. We realize his faithfulness is true and real and will hold us. I can still easily slip into old ways of striving, performing and controlling, but I continue to fight for these words, holy confidence.
The fight is real, and sometimes I still find myself fighting the wrong fight.
I fight to figure it all out or fight for control. I fight to be good enough or avoid the vulnerability I so desperately want and need. I fight to be “OK” when maybe God just wants me to be dependent on him instead.
I fight to save myself.
But … what if the fight is really to accept my neediness and weakness and allow my savior to save me?
“To consent to be who he has made me and remain where he has placed me,” said Andrew Murray, author of “Humility.” The necessary fight is to believe truth, to choose life not death, moment by moment.
The fight is to agree with God, and not the wickedness of my flesh or the torment of the lies of the enemy of my soul. The fight is to willingly choose weakness and trust this upside-down kingdom.
The fight is to willingly fall into his arms: into his love, acceptance, and grace. It is to courageously bring the lame, broken and wounded parts of myself honestly before him to receive his healing.
We must surrender because he is able.
Here lie life, freedom and joy. Here lies the holy confidence he longs to give.