“Ah, freedom.”

The thought that runs through our heads when we’re finally alone. When the project is finally finished. When we’re finally off work. When we’re finally on vacation. When we’re finally able to do what we want.  For different people, different circumstances cause us to breathe out that sigh of relief.  

Each of us has our own ideas about freedom. If you’re anything like me, in spite of the short-term instances of relief you occasionally experience, freedom is an elusive dream that you’re always chasing.

If I can just get through one more week, I’ll be free.

If I could just find a different job, then I’d be at peace.

If I could just break this one habit, I’d be okay.

If I could just have this relationship squared away, then I’d feel better.

If I can somehow find a way to make more money, I’ll be set.  

But the week comes and goes, and I still feel restless, the new job has its own set of problems, the habit just won’t go away, the relationship is never perfect, and the money is never enough.

The imagery Jesus uses when He speaks these words is vivid – “life to the full.” Abundant life. Life that has richness. He’s not speaking about life in a biological term – He’s speaking of a quality of life that is higher than we are able to experience on our own because it comes only from Him.

Many of us would use words like frazzled, frustrated, overwhelmed, stuck, defeated, fearful, insecure, lonely, confused, burned-out, or discouraged to describe our lives. I know I’ve used those words many times, even in the last few months. In contrast, Jesus offers us abundant life. Life that could be described as peaceful, contented, gracious, loving, joyful, and free.  

​As you consider your current season of life, which list most resonates with you? Are you experiencing the abundant life and freedom that Jesus came to offer? Or is it possible that, like me, you’ve been attaching your peace and freedom to the wrong things and as a result, are experiencing discouragement over joy, frustration over peace, and bondage over freedom?

I think it's easy for us to get comfortable in life.

Comfort zones can be danger zones, though. When we get comfortable, we tend to become self-centered. We take things and people for granted. We stop giving. We start taking. We become proud. And God's not a fan of our stagnation, and He tends to only let us stay comfortable for so long before He begins to create some friction in our lives. Gently, at first, and then with increasingly more force as we stubbornly hold on to what we believe we need and have a right to - whether that's a certain emotional state of being, a particular relationship, an orderly set of circumstances, or even a way of thought and belief that is comfortable to us.

Our response to these disruptions reveals our heart. The right response is surrender to what God doing, trusting Him, and being obedient even in the hard things. When we surrender, we grow. We change. We become strengthened emotionally, relationally, and spiritually. 

But often we respond negatively, with anger, resentment, and a stubborn refusal to change. That's when things tend to get bad, because God often has to use pain to motivate us to change, as most of refuse to budge until the pain of staying the way we are is greater than the pain of change. 

Jonah is an example of someone who had a very clear comfort zone in life, and when God began to challenge him, he responded in anger. His desperation to maintain control over his life and choices made him emotionally unstable and ultimately estranged from God. 

I'm excited to share this study on Jonah with you. it's one of my favorite lessons to teach. And yes, I know, I'm breaking the cardinal rule of blogging by publishing an article that's over 1,300 words - but I felt like it would be worth it. 

I recommend you pull your Bible out and follow along. For the sake of time and space, I'll only be including key verses as we go through. Start with reading the book (it's just 4 chapters) to familiarize yourself with the story. 

I love mysteries!

And I hate mysteries.

And if I had to guess, I’d venture to say you’re in the same boat with me.

​Allow me to explain.

My favorite genre of fiction happens to be suspense/mystery. I love them. Mysteries are a perfect escape from reality for me. I like not knowing what's going to happen next, and I love trying to figure out what happens next anyway, and of course, trying to guess "whodunit." Maybe reading isn’t your thing – but perhaps crime dramas are a go-to for you. I think media trends to show that we, the people, love mysteries.

In real life, however, I have a much harder time getting excited about not knowing what's around the bend. It's far too easy for me to find myself anxious, and often fearful, about anything from what's going to happen when I call this person, to what's going to happen over the course of the year – or beyond. When I don't have a grasp on what to expect or what's going to happen, it doesn't matter how big or small the situation is, I just plain don't like it. 

Most of us are familiar with the story of how God delivered the Israelites out of Egypt. Moses, the burning bush, plagues, splitting the sea. There's a lot there. A lot to learn. And as I was recently reading in Exodus 8, something jumped out at me. ​It was following the curse of the frogs:
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​People change when the pain of staying the way they are becomes greater than the pain of change.

​The problem is that we suffer frequently from memory loss.
 
We sin. We suffer. God offers freedom. We hesitate. Is it worth it? Maybe. Tomorrow. 

Sometimes tomorrow doesn't come until next week. Or next month. Or next year.

But eventually, the time comes. It's too much. We agree. We'll do anything. Just help. 
 
So God relieves the pressure and the pain.
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​Disobedience, on the other hand, is never worth it. It brings pain, bondage, anger, despair. 

But obedience? Obedience is always worth it. 
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My father had many verses that were meaningful to him, that he drew encouragement from. But the most meaningful thing to him in his relationship with God was this simple word, “hupomeno.” It quickly became the theme of his life, and he lived it in full, to his last breath.

I am constantly inspired by the meaning of this word to choose hope, to choose trust, and to choose God. I am inspired by my father’s example, and how he endured all things with hope, with expectation of God’s deliverance – and how God continually proved faithful to His promises in each and every trial. I hope to live my life in such a way as to inspire others the way that my father inspired me.

​Until my own recent struggle, I don’t think I realized just how far-reaching fear can become, not only personally, but how my internal fears can begin to affect my relationships in significant ways. I think we’re all guilty of acting in fear in our relationships – I just think we don’t generally notice until it becomes out of control and is seen more in the results of deep depression, desperate behavior, and a pattern of broken relationships.

​It’s often not too difficult to look back and see where we did things the wrong way, acted in fear, and where things got off track. Unfortunately, it’s much harder to fix the problems when we’ve reached that point. It is not, however, impossible. It simply requires much humility and a determination to let God become our focus rather than people, and let love control our actions, not fear. 

Fear.
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One of those sins that Christians tend to address as "minor," "little," and "unimportant," fear is often deemed unnecessary to address. We don't see it as a big deal, so we just ignore it, hoping it’ll go away. Unfortunately, though, as time goes on, fear not only doesn’t disappear – it actually grows. Before too long, the “little” sin is now the BIG sin that has begun to push us around and is grasping for control over every part of our lives.

I think part of the struggle we have to take fear seriously starts with the fact that fear in and of itself may not be a problem. Fear is a God-given emotion. The danger is found in what we’re fearing and how we respond to that fear. 
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We need encouragement. We need help. We need hope.

When we’re overwhelmed, frustrated, tired, and broken, we are tempted to isolate. But it’s in those broken moments that we most need each other. We benefit the most from our relationships when it’s the hardest – when we’re most tempted to give up, close up, or shut down. When we’re vulnerable. When we’re scared. When we’re desperate.  

The pattern in scripture is that when people (or even the nation of Israel) were desperate, they cried out to God. And God sent a man. God sent a woman. God sent a person. And He used that person to help, encourage, and bring about deliverance, both personally and corporately.
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What you think about is more important you may realize.

On the surface, we all know this. But it’s what’s lurking below the surface that’s the most dangerous. It’s those thoughts we don’t even realize we’re thinking. The things we don’t know we’re telling ourselves. The initial fears and doubts that run through our minds so fast that we’ve emotionally and physically reacted before we even realized what was happening.

The more I consider the power of fear in my life and in the lives of those I’ve worked with over the years, the more convinced I am that fear is the single most underestimated tool in the Enemy’s arsenal. I believe that’s why, in Revelation 21:8, the first quality noted of those thrown into the Lake of Fire are the fearful (http://biblehub.com/greek/1169.htm).  
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Have you ever noticed that some of your best traits also flip over to your worst traits? The same part of me that makes me cautious, careful, and escape trouble and pain also became the source of my biggest struggle over 2017 as I struggled with fear and anxiety.

When I was younger, my parents taught me a lot about trust. I learned to trust them, to believe them. They also taught me the importance of trusting God. Surrendering. Not having to have it all figured it out. They taught me how to balance caution and planning with my faith in God and the sometimes blind obedience that he requires me.

All of this was tested when God did something totally unexpected and completely beyond my understanding: he took my best friend, mentor, and father to Heaven.

The roller-coaster of emotions I experienced during 2017 is beyond description, and even thinking about what I went through, especially those first few months, exhausts me. I went back and forth between supernatural confidence and faith in God, to crushing fear, anxiety, and an overwhelming, oppressing sense of despair. One moment I had hope; the next I felt like I’d never have hope again.

Why? What was happening? How could I so quickly falter?