Obedience is His love language.
Is that why I get so bent out of shape when the Holy Spirit gently lets me know the way,
and I say in my inner most parts, that it's too scary.
I'm not going there. Nope. Not doing it. It's way to hard.
What then?
My journey leads me towards His words, and I must step. The words my Jesus said while He walked and talked on the soil He created. Word made flesh. Flesh that had to die, so that I could really live. Do you see how big of deal this is? There is nothing I could say or write, in my own created flesh, that could ever match the wonder of the words that spoke life and healing. And I fear.
I fear the same things I have always feared. When did I unknowingly resurrect this fear? I laid it down there, at the cross. It died a death witnessed. Am I a slave forever?
The Word, wanted more of the Word in his soul.. he was thirsty.
Jesus thirsted so I wouldn't have too. Obediently I open my New Testament and begin drinking.
"For you did not receive the spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received the Spirit of adoption as sons,
by whom we cry, "Abba Father!"
Romans 8:15
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