Thoughts On: John 3:22-30

Now a discussion arose between some of John's disciples and a Jew over purification. And they came to John and said to him, "Rabbi, he who was with you across the Jordan, to whom you bore witness—look, he is baptizing, and all are going to him." John answered, "A person cannot receive even one thing unless it is given him from heaven. You yourselves bear me witness, that I said, 'I am not the Christ, but I have been sent before him.' The one who has the bride is the bridegroom. The friend of the bridegroom, who stands and hears him, rejoices greatly at the bridegroom's voice. Therefore this joy of mine is now complete. He must increase, but I must decrease."

John 3:25-30, ESV

I gave my first sermon this past weekend, and the anxiety leading up to it made the week nearly unbearable. I wanted to jump out of my skin and into the next week, when I would be done, and when I would know whether I had it in me to speak in front of people. I never saw myself preaching. I thought it was an arrogant dream. 

I struggled all through the interview process for my current job, wondering whether having the responsibility this job gives me would bring about pride in my life. God consistently assured me that this was and is my place, and I am absolutely in love with my career. But the thought that ate up my life for years began to scare me again:

I must have a platform. 

This lie devoured me as a young Christian. I wanted to go to Africa, or start some sort of dazzling organization, or write books that would change the world. I thought that I needed to do these things to gain the favor of God. I thought I needed to prove something. It turned out I didn't need to prove a thing, that He loved me all along, and that an ordinary life is a beautiful life. I love ordinary, now. I love that I get to be normal, and God gets to be extraordinary. And that, right there, is the truth that sets me free:

God has the platform.

I thought that maybe having an actual platform, one where I get to teach the Word and speak and preach, would cause me to fall back into the lie. But that first sermon blew that lie out of the water. Creating a platform for myself will never matter. Trying to earn my way to the front of a crowd will always prove useless. The truth is that God will always own the right to be held up, and if I find myself in front of one person or ten thousand, it will make no difference: It will always be about Him. 

My calling in this life is to point to the God who owns everything. He owns me. I don't get to determine a lot of things, but I do get to determine what I say and what I do, and I get to decide whether those things will increase my own personality or the infinite goodness of God. It is humbling and relieving: He must increase, and I must decrease.