11-11

I knew from the moment it began appearing, it meant something. 11:11 has followed me everywhere this year. Or, now that I know better, I should say it was leading me somewhere. The problem, though, was that I had no idea what it meant. Why did I look at the clock without realizing it every day at 11:11? Why did these numbers jump out at me when I least expected? I believe God speaks to us in many different ways. He has such a sense of humor, there’s no telling what he’ll do next. At first, it intrigued me. What special message was God trying to get across? I scoured the Bible, looking up every eleventh verse in every eleventh chapter. Nothing. So I asked trusted friends and family what they thought it could mean. Nothing. My intrigue quickly turned to irritation.

“I’m not playing games with you, God. If you have something to say to me, say it. I’m not going on a scavenger hunt.”

So I pushed it to the back of my mind, reminding myself and God continually that I wasn’t interested in this game.

This past year has been the one of the darkest years of my life. It’s also been the most transformational year of my life. The things I’ve learned about who I am and who God is has rocked me to my core. I realized that I was a spinning, striving, hungry, insecure, empty mess. I learned how performance-based my relationship with God was, and how my ministry fed a hunger in my heart that would only leave me hungry for more. God opened my eyes to his heart for me. He showed me what it means to be His daughter and how that affects every other aspect of my life.

Isn’t it interesting that a butterfly’s transformation takes place in the darkness of a cocoon? The place where no one else can see. A seed must hide in the depths of a tomb before it erupts into what it was created for. I’ve been in a tomb this year. A lonely, dark, empty tomb. And I’ve fought to get out. I've tried clawing my way out. I’ve begged God for direction. I’ve pleaded with him for light. And apart from his Presence, the only answer He gave was 11:11. Seriously irritating.

I began to get afraid. What was going to happen on November 11^th? What would God take from me? One of my children? My husband? My house? The more I thought about it, the more I began to fear. And slowly, the shackles returned. The chains of fear held me paralyzed in my tomb. I scoured the Bible again. Nothing, except for Sarah having a baby even though she was barren. Was I going to have a baby?  Not funny, God.

No, I would just have to lock up everyone in my family up on November 11^th. No one would be allowed to leave the house. We would sit on the couch and watch TV. That way I could make sure that nothing would happen. That’s what happens when we let our chains rule our life. Nothing happens. We live paralyzed and stuck. Real life happens when we let go. Real life happens when we realize that God can actually be trusted with everything.

I don’t want to live in a tomb. Living in fear is not living at all. Vying for control only leaves me exhausted. So I let it go. I let 11:11 go. Because in the end, I don’t have any control, and our days have already been numbered.

And that’s when I heard it. The still, small voice, beckoning me to John chapter 11 verse 11. I had read it just two days before, and it meant nothing. What I know now, is that I just wasn’t ready.

John 11:11

“Then he said, “Our friend Lazarus has fallen asleep, but now I will go and wake him up.”

And suddenly it all became clear. The darkness of this past year. The floundering. The loneliness. The frustration. I was asleep and it was time to wake up. No amount of my own effort could wake me up. I was asleep because for too long I had tried in my own strength. For too long I had fought a battle I was never intended to fight. I had to be transformed, and transformation always happens in the dark.

Have you ever had cold water thrown in your face to wake you up? That’s what happened to me. Like a butterfly erupting from its cocoon, I felt my wings for the first time. Like a flower peaking through the dark soil, I caught a glimpse of who I’m created to be. A new vision for ministry opened up before me. And for the first time in a very long time, I felt awake.

But that’s not the end of the story. This all happened on 11-9.  11-11 was still to come.

Today is 11-11. I woke up this morning still anxious about the day, hoping I heard God right, but doubts creeping in. The snake in the garden convinced Eve to doubt God with the question he’s been asking ever since: “Did God really say?” I wasn’t sure anymore. Did He? Dare I believe that I heard His voice?

Little did I know what God had in store for me today. As I sat in church, my thoughts drifted, my fear always lurking like a shadow. That’s when the pastor told us to turn in our Bibles to John chapter 11.

To say that God took my breath away doesn’t describe what happened this morning. When I saw John 11:11 on the screen today on 11-11, I literally could not breathe. I couldn’t stop the tears. I couldn’t believe my eyes. He went through the story of Lazarus, and I knew I wasn't the only one waking up. He called us up to the front. I RAN!

My precious friends—today, on 11-11, Jesus called me out of the tomb.

John 11:43

Then Jesus shouted, “Lazarus, come out!”
And the dead man came out, his hands and feet bound in graveclothes, his face wrapped in a headcloth. Jesus told them, “Unwrap him and let him go!”
And my fear, like the graveclothes binding Lazarus, finally fell away.

What happens in the darkness of a cocoon is more important than anything the butterfly does in its lifetime. It is the cocoon that causes our jaws to drop. I’m grateful for my time in the cocoon. But there’s nothing like waking up from a much-needed sleep to discover that you are ready for a new day.

11-11 marks a new birth for me. A new vision. A new purpose. I am now in the business of setting captives free!

Happy 11-11.