The Hardest and Simplest Command

 

“Come… right… here… NOW.”

I glared at the scene before me. My three-year-old looked up from her Legos. I had been asking her to come get dressed for at least fifteen minutes.

I watched her contemplate her next move. The little wheels turning in her tiny brain.

I could practically see her running through the options.

  1. Ignore Mom

  2. Run away

  3. Obey… but very, very slowly

It struck me that Kate’s slow obedience looked a lot like my own.

She went with option three.

Inching toward me, I watched her scan the room. She grabbed a stuffed animal. One step forward. Then she leaned three paces to the left to rescue a wayward Mr. Potato Head and some cheap Gasparilla beads.

“Hold on… one more thing!” she exclaimed, darting to the other side of the room for her snack and water bottle before heading back.

Then… finally… to me.

“Kate girl,” I said, trying to stay calm. “I just want you to obey the first time. When I ask you to do something, I don’t want you stopping to think about whether I’m right or wrong. I don’t want you trying to figure out my intentions. I don’t want you deciding whether you feel like doing it or not.

You don’t need to grab snacks and toys before you come.

Just… obey.

No detours. No collecting supplies for the journey.

Come. Now.

It’s that simple. Okay?”

And the moment the words left my mouth, a wave of conviction washed over me.

It really is that simple.

Just obey.

And suddenly I realized that the same lesson applied to me.

When God asks me to obey, I don’t always need to analyze it.
I don’t need to second-guess it.
I don’t need to do a deep dive into the Greek words or theological implications.

Sometimes I just need to obey.

Simple, right?

Except for verses like this:

“Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God.” — Philippians 4:6

Do not be anxious about anything?

But…

I have four kids.
The house is a wreck. Cheerio casualties everywhere.
I have cancer.

Does God see everything I’m dealing with? Is He right to ask this of me? Does He know what He’s talking about?

Shouldn’t I fix things first… and then stop being anxious later?

And then comes the whisper:

“Amy… do not be anxious about anything.”

Another verse echoes:

“Do not fear, for I am with you; do not anxiously look about you, for I am your God.” — Isaiah 41:10

But…

I have chemo tomorrow.

A hurricane is tracking toward us.

My hair is falling out in clumps around me.

My last scan was really bad.

But… but… but.

Can obedience apply to mental health?

Did God really know what He was talking about?

The command sounds simple. So simple I was able to explain it to a three-year-old.

And yet in my own life it feels incredibly complicated.

Lay down my anxiety.
Let it go.
Choose to trust.
Choose to believe He sees tomorrow.
Choose to believe He is right.

No planning.
No strategizing.
No figuring everything out myself.

For some reason this simple application began to resonate with me.

Waiting for my PET scan, I prayed:

“Lord, I’m letting go of anxiety.

Not because I don’t have anything to be anxious about.
Not because this makes sense to me.
Not because I’m not scared.

Just because You said to do it.

Because You are trustworthy.”

Receiving an abnormal MRI.

They found areas of increased uptake.

They want a biopsy.

What does that mean for me?

Do not be anxious.

I don’t need to convince myself this is a good idea. I don’t need to understand it fully.

I just need to trust Him.

I don’t know what tomorrow brings.

But He does.

And then comes the promise:

“…and the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus.”

Notice what it doesn’t say.

It doesn’t say everything will be okay. (it might not be)

It doesn’t say the biopsy will be clear. (mine showed cancer)

It doesn’t say the road will be easy or painless. (it hurt more than words can express)

It doesn’t say you won’t die. (I will someday. And so will you)

Instead, God offers something different.

“I will give you peace.”

We think what we want most is solutions to our problems. We think good results and easy circumstances are the deepest desires of our hearts.

But what if our deepest desire is something else?

The peace of knowing that God hears our cry.

That He sees our pain.

That He carries our fears.

That whatever hardships come our way are not accidents. They didn’t slip through the cracks of His design.

The difficulties were His agenda for today.

Intentional. Purposeful.

Hard beyond what we would ever choose—yet administered with love by a Father who only allows what is necessary.

We think we want relief from uncertainty.

Perhaps what we truly want is the peace of God.

The kind of peace that allows us to stand in the middle of a Category 5 hurricane, safely surrounded by His arms while calm waters fill our hearts.

Reflection

Where in your life are you slowly obeying God—adding detours, delays, or conditions before saying yes?

What anxiety are you carrying right now that God may be asking you to lay down in trust?

What would obedience to “do not be anxious” look like for you today?

When you picture God guarding your heart and mind, what does that protection look like in the middle of your current circumstances?

 
 
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