I am not my own

I didn’t even want to be an “artist.” How impractical. How silly. I begged God, let me doing anything else. Creativity was cool in theory, but in practice it felt like signing up for a life of misery.

Constant words from strangers about being creative, and leading others in using their gifting for the Lord wore me out a after a while. Anything but that, Lord.

At some point, it actually made me angry. It made me resent God. Why would He ask me to do something that I have no grid for? Why can’t I go to school like everyone else? Why can’t I do the normal things that everyone else did? Why can’t I build my own empire and use it “for your kingdom?”

I don’t remember the exact tipping point, but I finally came to a point where I could plainly see- He is Lord, and I am not.

And I am actually not my own.

I am so thankful for His mercy. His patience. His loving-kindness. Standing on the other side, I can now see that the invitation to deny myself and be devoted to Him is actually freedom.

When I surrender my rights and will to His, I actually gain everything.

I am not my own, and I’m okay with that.