It’s been a weird month. One of those in which much could be said but…

For Lys and I, we’re exiting a pronounced stretch of remembrance. By now, each year feels more like clockwork with a grief uptick during the dog days only to lift by the fall equinox. Even now, I sense the heaviness dissipating. Lord knows He’s given me and my family plenty of reason to keep going.

Yet, taking a corporate temperature, I can’t help but wonder if our present peace is set to stun mode. Restless nights have picked up for some, for others, the fatigue of the unknown (i.e. what to do next, how to respond now, etc.). Of course, there are those, who may be weary with their former toil. Probably a combination of ‘all of the above’, if we’re perfectly honest.

I know for me, there’s been much I’ve needed to release of late – the weight of carrying past positives into the present, the hope of connection and reconciliation in certain situations, the right for my right calls to be seen. Sometimes, it’s hard to make sense of the burdens we desperately want to flush out. Thankfully, as complex as our knots may be, the opportunity to surrender them is anything but.

Take last Tuesday for instance. Sitting on my front step, I started to go down a familiar rabbit hole, the one in which I try to make sense of where I’ve been and where I’m going. But unlike other episodes, I hit a point of exhale earlier in the process. Maybe it was the lower humidity and refreshing air mass. Perhaps I was giddy from just setting up some fall decor. Either way, I looked down the street from my porch on a hill and with what seemed like misplaced contentment, started to empty myself in the moment.

Then, after a few minutes, something bizarre happened: I began to shiver…in 75 degrees, calm winds, and a setting sun to my right. Suddenly, I needed a second layer and a flip to 1 Corinthians 2. With disrupted thermodynamics, I dug in.

In his letter, Paul confirms his posture in v. 2-3 (AMP):

“I made the decision to know nothing [to forego philosophical or theological discussions regarding inconsequential things and opinions while] among you except Jesus Christ, and Him crucified [and the meaning of His redemptive, substitutionary death and His resurrection]. I came to you in weakness, fear, and great trembling. And my message…[was] not in persuasive words of clever rhetoric but delivered in demonstration of the Spirit operating through me and of His power stirring the minds…so that your faith would not rest on the wisdom of men, but on the power of God.”

Relating and resonating, I kept on.

“For what person knows the thoughts and motives of a man except the man’s spirit within him? So also no one knows the thoughts of God except the Spirit of God. Now we have received, not the spirit of the world, but the Spirit who is from God, so that we may know and understand the wonderful things freely given to us by God. We also speak of these things, not in words taught or supplied by human wisdom, but in those taught by the Spirit, combining and interpreting spiritual thoughts with spiritual words for those being guided by the Holy Spirit” (v. 11-13, AMP).

Now, I’m not the savviest theologian; however, I’m confident when in doubt, in trouble, and/or in pain, the best response is to invite God in by making room for the Cross. In doing this, we position ourselves to be overwhelmed by the power of the Spirit, a move we cannot conjure or manufacture. Far too often, we’re consumed by our own capacities when we must remember there’s no capacity for what matters without the Spirit. We may crave daily bread, but we cannot receive it without pure vertical reliance in which we declare our substitutions, replacing worldly guesses and opinions with God’s Word. Every day, we must be mindful of the exchanges we’re called to make, especially if we long to process through clear channels; hence, why this chapter is so enriching. By God’s Spirit, the depth we were designed with has access, not just a channel but an invitation to know what He’s thinking, at least bits and pieces.

My encouragement to you, friends: Let the Spirit bridge the Cross’ wake to your present circumstances and fall forward. As challenging as your immediate may be, simplicity can still be found in moments of surrender. For in the power of God’s Spirit, we can know Christ and Christ crucified more intimately as we breathe, live, move, and have our being (Acts 17:28). The more we mature in this mindset, the more we will experience this as a sweet reality from our personal walks to corporate communions.

As for what keeps us from standing together, praying with/for one another, and sharing with one another, may we be willing to put them all on the altar as we lay down our dreams, agendas, weapons, all the way down to our revisionist fantasies. In all that we do, may we embrace and rediscover the joy of holy dependency.

After all, a new season dawns. May it be one in which we let go and let God all the more.

Graphic creds: Shutterstock