How kind is God to remind me that I don’t need a new goal, a new dream, or a new accomplishment to bring him glory? As last year came to a close, I struggled to find clarity and my next steps for the new year. By this point I’m always goal setting and already goal getting. Checking boxes and climbing higher is where I thrive, where I feel the most like myself. But now I’m seeing that is where my struggle lies. I’m seeing that’s where my struggle has always been, it’s just been coved up by new skills, new titles, new hobbies, and new accomplishments. But what if this year I’m not supposed to embrace the newness, but instead to surrender to the life that’s already here around me, to whatever God has for me?
Surrender. I try to do my best at so many things, at almost everything actually. But not surrender. If I surrender, it means I give up in my mind, and I just can’t do that. I will hang on to that control for dear life because I am scared of not knowing how something is going to go. The act of surrender is absolutely my biggest struggle. But when God asks us to surrender, he’s not asking us to give up or to quit. He is really asking for much more. Much more than I want to sign up for. What he is really asking us to do is to let go, and to let HIM. Rapha.
In Hebrew, “rapha” relates to Psalm 46:10 “Be still and know that I am God.” Rapha means to be still, to be weak, to let go, to release…to surrender. I came across it as I was looking for another word in Hebrew for a good friend. Her word seemed much prettier, honestly, and I wanted it for myself as soon as I read it. “Qavah,” to wait on God with eagerness and expectation that he will redeem, restore, and fulfill his promise. Yeah, that sounds way better to me than being “weak.” But that was her word, and it wasn’t meant for me. So I had to surrender it too right then and there.

As I sat in church this past Sunday, I thought more on this word, “rapha,” and how I might act on it. “God, show me what you want me to do, and I’ll do it!”
And there it was again. The word literally means to be still, and all I’ve wanted to do since I’ve heard it is take action, that’s how deep the go- getter bloods runs in me. But as I continued to listened to the sermon, God put the gentlest hand on my heart. He opened my eyes a little wider. He let me see him and this world a little clearer. Rapha doesn’t mean I have to actually sit still and do nothing, give up everything, and just let God take over. Not quite yet at least, not always. But instead of dreaming up something new to press into, God allowed me to take a step out of my comfortable little box, and to really look at my life, look at my family, look at the ministry around me. He showed me the value in standing still, being still, right where I am, because exactly where he’s placed me, is exactly where he can use me.
I prayed this morning that I’d just let him. That I’d loosen my grip, unclench my fists, and surrender so that God would have his way, even if his way doesn’t go quite like the the way I would have chosen. After I prayed I looked deeper into the the word rapha, and found another meaning that sealed the deal for me. Rapha in Hebrew also means to heal or to restore, and translates to “healer” and “physician.” That was all I needed. I look inside me, around me, and all over the people I love and the people I meet, and I see hurt, I see need, I see pain, and I see suffering. We all have a heart that needs mended, and there is only one cure. One Answer. One Healer. One Great Physician. And that’s Jesus. That’s Rapha.
