We are taking every thought captive to the obedience of Christ…
2 Cor. 10:5b NASB
Martha once told me that there are some things that we are so tied to that we cannot just “let go” of them; we need to actually hurl them at Jesus’ feet. I hurled my cigarettes at His feet (more than a few times, too!), and I’ve found something else that I often have to hurl rather than just let go: my thoughts.
It’s not always easy for me to get still and simply BE, so that the life of Christ rises unhindered. In fact, it can be downright excruciating. Sometimes putting off my old self feels a lot like wrestling with a straitjacket. And on those days, I’ve discovered that “taking every thought captive” is only possible when I hurl those loud, persistent thoughts at Jesus’ feet – less capture and more catapult.
The stillness that comes after my thoughts have been evicted from the throne is quite miraculous. It’s the living embodiment of one of my life-words from God: “Let be and be still and know that I am God.” That one little word has been a command, a permission, a call, and a promise. My still and quiet mind knows that God is GOD, and that stillness moves into my heart and spreads throughout my body. In that moment, I can touch the wonder of being a vessel for Someone infinitely greater than I am, and it’s almost indescribable.
When my mind is still and captive to Another, my ears don’t have to fight to hear. My eyes don’t strain themselves searching and reading and scanning for data to be analyzed and diagnosed, so they begin to see without agenda. My tongue can lay quiet without the “help” of my teeth. I am out of the way and now God has something only I can give Him: my body.
It’s funny, but Jesus hasn’t been terribly dramatic in these times of stillness. If He’s working at all, I’m not usually aware of it at the time. Instead I find myself quietly marveling at how beautiful life can be when the remarkable din of “me” is missing. I wonder if this is what a cloistered life is (or can be). The bone-deep enjoyment of the simplest things (looking, listening, breathing) is like nothing I ever thought possible. So beautiful and easy!
And it all begins with an unruly thought hurtling through the air and landing at His feet. I forget sometimes that adventure is not always high-drama. There can be risk in solitude and the remarkable in stillness. It’s all part of the daily discovery that our Father meant it when He said, “My thoughts are not your thoughts, and your ways are not My ways” (Is. 55:8).