Jesus Didn’t Want My Capacity

The last year of pandemic slowness has given plenty of opportunities for contemplation and the plotting of a new course when it comes to ministry. Even so, I was going at a pretty slow pace before the government sanctioned separation. A small church, few demanding people paired with an intentional embrace of the slower things of life left me with a clearer view of what it was Jesus was after when he claimed me for himself.

I used to pride myself on my capacity. I could manage a number of important things with ease and I was sure the Lord would tap into my efficiency and ability to further his cause. Working in an influential governmental position and still leading at our local church all while embracing married life gave me some sense that I could handle whatever was thrown at me. Eventually the vocation shifted to pursuing education and ministry but my view of my own capacity still ruled. Of course it was pride having the run of my heart but so much of what I heard among my tribe of Christianity and from the leaders of the large church where I worked seemed to demand high capacity personalities if success was to be found.

To that end, I think I was successful. A flourishing ministry, leadership opportunities, a brash personality that seemed to plow through what others couldn’t surmount. It was my resilience, my capacity to manage and move fast that made me appealing. Maybe to some but the deeper problem was that I thought it was what Jesus wanted of me.

It wasn’t.

As I transitioned to a different context, one where it wasn’t my capacity that mattered but my steadiness, I began to realize that Jesus wasn’t after my entrepreneurial mentality, or aggressive style of leadership. He was after what he wants from everyone, my heart.

He desired for me to live a life of repentance and dependence, not trusting in my ability to accomplish but on his power to keep me. He wanted more of the territory of my heart, the corners I have kept to myself he wanted to rule in. He wanted me to surrender to his will and way and that would mean my capacity wouldn’t matter. In his gracious care, he brought me to a season of life to be able to see it. To repent and set out to surrender with each day.

Of course he isn’t done with me. And he is not done with you. You just might be surprised that he isn’t interested in the thing you think he is, he wants your heart. Maybe today is the day to give it over to him. I promise it is a life-long endeavor, but we all need a start.

Here is to seeing rightly, to making the start, and giving Jesus your heart.