“Atrévete a creer,” I wrote last night in purple ink, a mentor-letter to a young person from a Spanish-speaking country. “Dare to believe.”
I stopped suddenly, the pen suspended above the paper. Wasn’t God saying the same thing to me?
In the weeks leading up to my most recent travel to México, co-leading a team of fifteen incredible students from MVNU, God drove me to my knees for intense preparation. The climax of that preparation involved Him opening my eyes to an area of my heart that I had on strict lockdown.
Life had taught me a few things, and I had emerged from various battles with several deep scars. As a result, I built some impressive walls around my heart. I held people and circumstances at arm’s length, not wanting to get attached or feel vulnerable. I held hope out at arm’s length, always waiting for “the catch,” always skeptical. I wouldn’t be tricked anymore; I would be smarter than that.
My roommate had been helping me process things God was revealing to me, but she was not there the day God opened that locked door in my heart. I knelt alone on our bedroom carpet and, in the silence, sensed God speaking explicitly to me. I didn’t wonder if I were just hearing my own imagination. I knew it was Him.
“I’ve given you the ability to see the walls that other people erect around their hearts. But Jordan, your walls are just as high. In fact, you have built a fortress, and you hide inside it, thinking that those walls will protect you from pain. In reality, those walls only increase it. Your extreme efforts to protect yourself reveal that deep down, you do not believe that I am good or trustworthy.”
Ouch. But He continued:
“You push people and blessings away. You miss the abundance that I have for you — the rich experiences I am trying to give you! When you go into self-preservation mode, you immediately begin to miss out on My best for you.
“Jordan, this ends now. You are not meant to live this way. Listen to me. Beginning right now, I forbid you to hide behind your walls. Trust Me enough to let Me help you take down your walls brick by brick. When you go to México, keep your walls down. Dare to let those kids into your heart. Dare to hope. Dare to let love in. And trust Me to work in that. Trust Me to protect your heart. Trust Me to guide you. Trust My love for you.”
I held onto Jesus with a white-knuckle grip, took a deep breath, and dove into the international experience that would alter my life-course forever.
Did I feel vulnerable? At times, yes. Was it scary? Certainly. But I have never felt so alive. With my heart finally free and open, love entered in many different forms. God confirmed who I was born to be and what I was created to do in His Kingdom. It is so freeing to live outside the fortress.
But the story doesn’t end there. God still calls me daily to live with my walls down. He catches me sliding back into old habits of doubting the good things He has given me, being skeptical of hope. I catch myself saying, “That won’t happen,” or “He won’t do it,” even telling myself, “It’s foolish to hope, so stop hoping for that; you will be disappointed,” or “No, it’s impossible; it will never change.”
He convicts me that I say these things to shield my heart. These spoken phrases are subtle parts of the wall that I’ve been forbidden to erect or to hide behind. Did I not just tell the child I mentor, “Dare to believe”? Yet I half-embrace, half-stomp on hope in my own life as the Jordan of the fortress begins to reemerge.
Today God led me to Jeremiah 32:27, “Behold, I am the LORD, the God of all flesh. Is anything too hard for Me?”
And I can’t help but wonder.
Suppose, just suppose, we were courageous enough to change our self-messages from “Don’t hope for that; it won’t happen,” to “I serve a God who is good and who loves to surprise me; it could happen!” and “This will never change,” to “I serve a God who makes the impossible possible. It may change suddenly!”
Suppose we were gutsy enough and “foolish” enough to lean into hope and to put our weight on it, trusting our God to catch us in His everlasting arms if we fall, as He has so wonderfully in the past?
What would God do if His people dared to hope?
Call me foolish, but I believe God loves to see childlike faith and hope that does not try to protect itself. A childlike faith that dares to believe, that dreams big dreams and doesn’t fear falling.
Because I am foolish enough, courageous enough. I am running from the fortress, living into hope, daring to dream, gutsy enough to believe, knowing that as I follow the leading of the Shepherd, my faith will someday be my sight. I know that I will see His promises materialize. I know my hope is not in vain. Praise God — we serve a God of HOPE.
So,¿te atreves a creer? Do you dare to believe?
I dare you.
Rhythms of Courage 