to abide.
a·bide
verb
accept or act in accordance with
be able to tolerate
continue without fading or being lost.
(Oxford English Dictionary)
December was less than kind, and in many ways was not how I imagined my 2024 to end. Yet there have been signs and confirmations that remind me that I am exactly where I need to be, walking towards where I need to go. There is a comfort and peace that comes in recognizing that the discomfort around you is temporary, and is perhaps your body learning to fit the frame of the things that it once carried. The last time I carried these things, I did not want to surrender control and in time it overwhelmed me to the point of burn out.
There is a redemptive quality that surrounds the spaces that I am going to walk into for the new year. Spaces of “you know better than to do that again”, or “remember what happened the last time you did that?” It is easy to read those thoughts with a tone of self-judgement and self-consternation but I choose to read them in tones of love and courage, a reminder that sometimes what we used to do, or what we have affirmed as best practice, may not actually truly be the case. I am slowly learning to let go a little of my triggers that continue to bind me, with a little more grace and a whole lot of love, and likewise instead of stepping into spaces of heavy with my battle scars and hurt, can I challenge myself to walk through those spaces with a whole less judgement, pride and authenticity? Can I learn to abide less in the act of doing for the validation of man, and more in the authenticity of what I get to do through the calling of Christ?
In their hearts humans plan their course, but the Lord establishes their steps.
- Proverbs 16:9
I have been reminded lately of the cost of carrying heavy things, without being tethered. I have also been consistently reminded that surrendering is an art, and for an individual who has a strong predisposition to want and maintain control, it often works in juxtaposition to that of my faith that God is our ultimate source of strength for all things, and that to Him, I should surrender all. I have no clue what the new year will bring for me, but I do know that abiding in Him will be crucial to me making it through.
I found myself in the past two weeks, returning to my anchor in Psalm 91 and I am reminded in the strength that comes in dwelling with the Lord and calling Him my ultimate refuge and fortress (v. 1-2), and that His promise of protection will endure in honour and salvation (v. 14-16). May I never do the things I want to do without the blessing and favour of my God, and may the purposes of what I get to do align with the direction of His path.
In reflecting on all of this I recall an old hymn that I remember singing years ago in choir class and the following verse:
Swift to its close ebbs out life’s little day;
Earth’s joys grow dim, its glories pass away;
Change and decay in all around I see;
O Thou who changest not, abide with me.
Abiding I have learnt is an act of trust, and a recognition of weakness that we are not meant to do certain things alone, or without a guide and anchor. May 2025 find me rooted in my ultimate guide and anchor, and may this continue to frame the situations that find me in the coming days and months. That I do not go without the blessing and guidance of my God, and may He continue to be a lamp to my feet and a light to my path.