I wrote a blog post some months ago, and as I was scrolling through my archives looking for something to post today, I read it—and it ministered to me.
Part of taking responsibility for the things that are assigned to you is understanding that they do not require the consent of a crowd. Sometimes, you’ll find yourself having to pick up your cross on your own and walk some distance before help arrives. Sometimes, you’ll pick up your cross in the midst of great disapproval, with voices advising you to go in one direction while you feel pulled toward another.
But regardless of the path you choose, you must take responsibility for it—shouldering the discomfort, the joys, the hardships, and the successes. I wrote that nothing seemed worth committing to because nothing felt permanent. But my error was in thinking that I needed permanence for something to be worth my commitment. Some things become permanent because of the effort invested; after all, there are things that require more than the natural eye to see their value. It’s not always evident at the outset, but over time, you’ll discover the hidden treasure that was covered in darkness—and the riches of secret places.
