“Maxy, you can do it. Walk to Mommy.”
“But I can’t Mommy,” my youngest protested as he held his wound.
“Does your foot hurt?”
“No Mommy, but I need my boot.”
Just a week prior we found ourselves in the ER with my littlest love, Max, after jumping on the couch landed us in the hospital, and him with 5 stitches in the bottom of his little chubby foot. It’s safe to say this little monkey won’t be jumping on the couch anytime soon. Because he is only two years old, and there is no stopping a toddler, they gave him a walking boot to get around. But now his wound was healing, and he needed to get used to walking without the crutch of his boot.
“Maxy, your foot is all better. Come to Mommy.”
“I can’t,” he said with crocodile tears falling from his big blues eyes.
“Max, do you love Mommy?”
“Then do you trust me?”
“Okay, then take a step. I’ve got you.”
As I was cheering on my littlest love on the floor of his bedroom, I saw myself in my strawberry blonde-headed two year old. I hold onto comfort the way Max was holding onto his boot. We were both hesitant to walk without our crutches.
Can I be honest? It’s been a hard summer. A beautifully messy, stretching season where God’s hand has been more visible then I’ve witnessed in a while. But it’s been hard, nonetheless. About six months ago we took the leap and left a town, church, and so many people we loved. We packed up and moved to Kansas City to help start a new church. In this church planting process, I came to hard realization. My comfort is a crutch, and dare I say, can be an idol.
Our idols aren’t always shiny and gold, sometimes they are subtle and sneaky.
With every step of faith in this process, my comfort has been ripped a bit more from my white knuckled grip. It’s familiar, and even comfortable, to find my worth in my accomplishments. It’s easy to allow the approval of others to dictate what I do. My day has always been decided by my calendar. All hail mommy’s big calendar;). And good luck to you if you dare change my carefully arranged plans. Needless to say, I like to know what to plan for. Too often I find peace in the predictable. But the way I’ve always operated has completed been stripped and turn upside down.
One morning I found myself on my knees crying out to my Heavenly Father. By no means was this an act of righteousness. I was on my knees because I didn’t think I could stand anymore. My crutch of comfort was gone, and I no longer knew how to take the next step.
“Are you willing to pay the price?”
It was those words I sensed the Holy Spirit speaking to me in the quietness of the morning.
Our crutches will always be just that- a crutch.
We will never be able to take the next step into all God has for us with our crutches.
But are we willing to pay the price? Are we willing to hobble around like my two year old, or will we lean on what we know to be comfortable and predictable? It is only when we decide to take that first step where we find true freedom and a super natural strength to combat whatever comes at us. Our enemy, Satan, will alwaysattack. But can I let you on a little secret that has been revolutionary for me in this season of life?
Satan’s attacks are counterfeit. We hold the real weapons. Romans 6 goes into detail about the armor we possess.
Are we willing to lay down our crutches for armor?
All of our crutches may look different. Maybe it’s a relationship, fear, predictability, image, approval, titles, money, success; they take on all forms. While they may make our life more comfortable for awhile, our crutches will always keep our life small. There is no growth when we have a death grip on our crutches. And our crutches will always rob us from the life of power that comes from leaning on the Holy Spirit.
That night in his bedroom my stubborn two year old finally took steps without his walking boot. I’m determined to follow his lead. I’m ready to trade my crutches for armor. I’m ready to take steps, as wobbly as they may be, leaning on the Holy Spirit.
Are you in?