Whatsoever...

I do not have to create mini-kingdoms of imaginary glory, in hopes to feel satisfaction, in an effort to “be something”. I really can step into the plans that the Godhead already have for me.

The Spirit doesn’t negotiate with my emotions. He doesn’t speak in philosophical terms, either. He doesn’t transact in head knowledge. His comforts come soul-deep with what(so)ever is honest, what(so)ever is truly right, and what(so)ever is lovely, good news.

What(so)ever.

It is then up to me to give The Holy Whatsoever - to give Him - my full attention. I can sit where I am, insisting on my imitation-whatsoevers, fists full of pipe-dreams, trying to become a plumber. Or, I can acknowledge that those pipe-dreams have actually been secretly siphoning off my joy.

It’s to my advantage to let all the pipes drop, and run to the One who alone has a glory-ous perspective on this thing called my life.

Not my neighbor’s life. Not my best friend’s life.

My life. There is no place else to know Him, other than right where I am. Not where I wish I was.

He will not force His life-giving perspective onto me. There is no mentor alive, anywhere, that can impart it to me. There is no spigot I can twist that lets the comfort that makes my life worth living, flow into my empty places, filling my soul-cavern.

He always offers Himself. The Godhead will not obligate Himself to my version of my best life.

He offers Himself.

I can reach out and grab tight hold of Himself, alone, right now - or I can wait three years or forty years to find out that everything - marriage, family, goals, art, personal expression of every kind, religion - my pseudo-whatsoever all falls apart without Him.

There will always be a difference between human imagination and sanctified imagination. The devil is an expert purveyor in the false. When God tells me not to lean on my own understanding, it is because without unflinching submission to the Holy Spirit, my own understanding becomes a manufacturing plant for little phony whatsoevers….itty bitty baby idols, like houses or hobbies, pet-sins-kept-secret, and pet dogmas that bite the very people who love me most.

My Deliverer knows that once I give the enemy access to any part of my being, the enemy will not stop there.

See, the devil also has goals and an imagination. He will instigate every scheme he can, to get me to doubt the goodness of God. To get me to look elsewhere for satisfaction. To settle for the knock-off Whatsoever Thing.

I can always know when the devil’s schemes are succeeding, when weeds choke out flowers, when “an enemy hath done this” (Matthew 13: 28)…

…it is precisely at that point when I lose my peace.