For as good and loving as I know God to be, I often resist Him.
Like a toddler, I clutch my bottle of independence as a fierce display of my ability to hold something on my own.
But God sees through me.
He knows I can’t do it.
So He waits.
He waits until the crippling sensation of self-exerted strength brings me to my knees. To a place where I can see the truth. The truth that He’s been holding the bottle the whole time.
In perfect peace, eyes glowing with compassion, He holds up His end. Faithfully, He offers help. Adamantly, I declare I don’t need it.
Then I feel it. The unraveling of my heart. The revelation of His.
Gently, he asks me for the bottle. He asks me to surrender. He dares me to trust Him to carry things for now.
The notion unsettles me, and my chubby fingers clench in discomfort .
But His love-light illuminates my weakness and melts my defiance.
I let go.
Then, unspeakable humility…for He gives me a drink even more satisfying than the one I had before.