When do gifts mean the most to us? When we desperately need them.
I experienced a major technical issue with my blog this week — something far beyond my novice developer skills. I won’t bore you with the details, but I lost months worth of writing and research. It was paralyzing.
I could hear the enemy’s lies pushing me toward panic — thoughts like:
“You weren’t cut out for this anyway, foolish girl…”
“God must not be pleased with what you’ve done…”
and the loudest, most persistent one…
“You lost your life’s work. You might as well shut it down.”
It took everything I had not to cancel everything and sit in front of that blasted screen until I figured it out. But I knew that response was rooted in fear, not in faith. So I pinged a few tech-savvy peeps, called in my prayer reinforcements, and flat-out begged God for a miracle. After I hit “refresh” at least 100 times with no change, I distractedly went about my day.
Over lunch, I turned to scripture in search of hope. (Anything in there about DNS server issues?) I admit, I didn’t even know where to look — so I just went with my daily Bible reading plan on YouVersion. (If you don’t have this app, you need it.)
The day’s passages took me through 2 Chronicles, and provided powerful rebuke to the enemy’s lies. Scripture came to life as I took it in — the most relevant, on point truth speaking into my situation.
- Truth about the authority of women to speak God’s truth in the story of Huldah the prophetess (34:22-25),
- Promises that God will help us and fight for us (32:8),
- And the most powerful revelation… about how my true “life’s work” is worship (29:10-11).
The last one hit me hard. My “life’s work” isn’t my writing, my research or anything else I produce. It’s worship. Worshipping and leading others to worship in whatever way I can.
Everything we do, any gift we bring to the table, any effort we put forth — is only possible because God has created, commissioned and qualified us to do so.
Our life’s work is worship — it’s why we were created. Got set eternity in the hearts of men (Ecclesiastes 3:11), and we were created to worship God and be in relationship with Him.
I realized for the first time ever that this blog, the whole redemptive story, is not mine at all. It’s God’s. The message was blunt, but I knew it was right and from God. And in the split-second it took to embrace it, I began to feel the freedom and peace that came with it.
So I asked the Lord to take the broken blog and do whatever He wanted with it, even if it meant I never got it back. I prayed for more of Him at any cost, and that He be glorified in all of this brokenness.
A few days went by and I barely thought about the blog. I was entirely at peace, fully surrendered to the fact that I couldn’t fix it and might never be able to. And it was ok — I was ok. It made no logical sense, other than I experienced a supernatural peace through surrender.
Oh, but it gets better. I woke up early yesterday morning to a response note from one of my tech-savvy peeps — interestingly, the one I hired to help me build my site years ago. He had taken a deep dive overnight and identified the issue (it was complex).
What’s more, he rolled up his sleeves and fixed it — the site was fully operational, restored and backed up, complete with all my writing and research. And as if that wasn’t already enough, he refused to accept any payment for his work. It brought me to tears.
I don’t think my friend has any idea what his gifts of knowledge and time meant to me. I don’t know if we share core beliefs or not. I don’t know if he ever even read my blog after helping me build it.
But here’s what I DO know — my friend participated in bringing Kingdom promises of restoration and hope to me. He got to be a part of God revealing more truth about who He is and who I am in Him — a gift intricately orchestrated before the beginning of time. God is just mysterious and awesome like that.
So, to my tech-savvy friend who restored my site (if you’re even reading this), thank you.
And to my God — the one who has my heart, my soul and every ounce of my purpose — the one who turns desperation to abundance, fear to bravery, death to life and mourning to joy — thank you. I’ll spend the rest of my days discovering my true life’s work — worship.
“And whatever you do, whether in word or deed, do it all in the name of the Lord Jesus, giving thanks to God the Father through him.” — Colossians 3:17