Lord, I consider Esther and the price she had to pay, all those women around her, the concubines. I consider Ruth who lost and gave up the rest, I consider Mary that had to travel such a long distance with her belly full of a baby, and what do I see in common with all three? Jesus and discomfort.
There is a price to be paid to be with a great man, there is a price to be paid to be used by God. The flesh really does die and there’s nothing enjoyable about this, quite frankly it comes with a large great level of discomfort. My heart screams, Help me! Jesus please! Help me! To get this right. I beseech thee dear Lord, help me to walk through the discomfort. Surely it’s for a season, isn’t it? A certain period of time, then the ‘baby’ will come, and there would come that wave intense release like nothing ever happened.
The Discomfort of change is in everything. The maturity of dealing with a hostile work environment, of doing what you love but being stuck in an environment where you are surrounded by things you intensely dislike. Help me Jesus; that is my constant cry. To be honest, sometimes, somehow, somewhere in recesses of my being I thank God for the pain and for just been generally uncomfortable. Don’t get me wrong, I love to be happy, to be satisfied, fulfilled and have my prayers answered on every side, but I cherish my discomfort still; for it is this discomfort that keeps me leaning on God and forces me into the place where truly, his rod and his staff both comfort me. Ah! The discomfort is real, sometimes it chokes, sometimes it blinds and sometimes it shakes, but every day I look back, I am glad to see the present me; a stronger version of myself.
Perhaps we should learn from the tech world, there is often a newer version of something and a constant upgrade indicating to us that we must continue to shed and renew to get ahead. To break forth, to become better, to become a stronger version of you means there has to be some discomfort. And sometimes, becoming stronger must first demand that you become weak, soft, fragile and humble, I have learnt.
I pray you find the ability to endure discomfort, for what it’s worth