My five-year-old goddaughter is irked by the English language - rightfully so. Homonyms and homophones aren’t for the weak. She is learning that we read words in the present, but completing an assigned book means she has read it. The color red has a different spelling and meaning but sounds like the past-tense version of r-e-a-d. Poor baby! I don’t want to be the one to tell her that there, their, and they’re trip up full-grown adults or that context is needed to discern whether a bat flies or gets swung. As confusing as words can be, they also bring clarity to conversations.
Every word carries meaning. They are vehicles that transport messages and concepts not only to our ears but also to our hearts. Words are seeds that burrow into the recesses of our souls, their unannounced roots growing long and strong. Their shoots spring up as thought patterns and belief systems that bear the fruit of habits and character traits.
As a familiar phrase rolled off my tongue this past weekend, Holy Spirit nudged me to interrogate my use of the word just.
I’M JUST OBEDIENT
Just (adv)
within a brief preceding time; but a moment before
exactly or precisely
by a narrow margin; barely
only or merely
actually; really; positively
Let’s lean into the highlighted definition for a bit. This meaning suggests normalcy at best and inadequacy at worst. Because words have the power to embolden or restrict, “just” is not just a word.
We clothe ourselves in phrases like:
I just have a high school diploma.
I’m just one person.
I’m just a mom.
All the while, “just” is acting as a skilled brick mason, building a fortress between us and the Word’s mirroring power, blocking the rich revelation of us being made in God’s image and surrendered to His lordship.
“Just” downplays the mountains we have climbed and the wildernesses we have crossed. It leads with the assumption that current circumstances are a challenge for the Author and Finisher of our faith, as if His plot twists aren’t second to none.
“Just” overlooks how what we do with ease is the strategy, system, or artistry that unleashes the locked-up potential in the lives of others.
I’m just obedient. This has been my go-to response for years when being thanked for acts of obedience, like creating spaces for greatness to gather and the oil to flow; setting my journal readings to music and releasing them as albums; publishing a devotional for men as a reminder to rest in their divine sonship.
If you love Me, keep My commandments.
John 14:15
These seven red-letter words stuck out to me as a teen. The verse took hold in my heart. I internalized the connection between love for God and obedience to God, but not in a fearful way. This wasn’t about adhering to rules; it was (and remains) a call to walk intimately with my Redeemer, who doubles as my Teacher. It is knowing that being led by the Spirit causes us to live, love, and lead like Jesus.
“I’m just obedient” wasn’t rooted in churchiness or false humility. It was my simplified way of articulating my commitment to the “big three” that every believer is called to: Love God. Love people. Make disciples. What other people perceived as unusual obedience, I viewed as hearing and obeying from a posture of devotion. Until a few days ago, “I’m just obedient” served as an underdeveloped explanation of my why. Now that I’ve been checked by the Holy One, allow me to explain it better:
OBEDIENCE IS THE FRUIT OF SURRENDER
What others witness and commend is (I almost typed just) my submission in motion. It is willful obedience - the result of giving my yes without knowing exactly what it will produce. Sometimes I leap into the unknown. At other times, the journey is a slow walk of placing one foot in front of the other while hoping and praying that ambiguity gives way to understanding. Either way, I am moving forward by faith rather than sight. I am following the Holy Spirit’s lead.
I am not just obedient. I am lovingly surrendered.
Sincerely,
LaToya NaShae