Some years ago, Bobbie Houston very kindly invited me to speak at the COLOUR Conference in Sydney. Around 25,000 women gathered in a magnificent arena for three days. I felt honoured. I felt humbled. And, if I’m completely honest, I also felt nervous.
As I stood in the wings waiting to be introduced, I wasn’t rehearsing my opening. I was counting the steps onto the platform.
One . . . Two . . . Three . . . Four . . . Five . . . Six . . . Why? Because I’d convinced myself that if I didn’t, I would trip over, fall flat on my face, and be remembered as the speaker who never made it to the microphone!
It’s amazing how quickly the imagination can write a disaster movie. Today I smile. At the time, it wasn’t funny. A familiar voice had started speaking.
‘You’re going to make a fool of yourself.’
‘Everyone will be watching.’
Perhaps you’ve heard that voice. It may not speak before you step onto a stage. It may speak before you walk into a hospital. Or a boardroom. Or a job interview. Or before you share your faith with a friend.
The place changes. The voice doesn’t. That voice didn’t begin with me. It began in a garden. The serpent approached Eve with a seemingly innocent question: ‘Did God really say . . .?’ (Genesis 3:1 NIV). Those four words changed human history.
The first temptation wasn’t about fruit. It was about whose voice would be trusted. Would Eve believe the whisper of the serpent or the Word of God? Every temptation since has followed the same pattern. There are always competing voices. One invites us to trust ourselves. The other calls us to trust God. One magnifies our fears. The other magnifies God’s faithfulness.
The battle is first fought and often won or lost in our mind.
Dr Martyn Lloyd-Jones once wrote, ‘Have you realised that most of your unhappiness in life is due to the fact that you are listening to yourself instead of talking to yourself?’
How true. Every day we preach a sermon to ourselves. The only question is whether we’re preaching the truth or repeating lies.
Over the years I’ve learnt something. I don’t have to believe everything I think. Not every thought comes from God. Not every fear tells the truth. Not every accusation deserves an answer. Not every thought that enters our mind deserves a chair at our table.
The apostle Paul knew how crucial the mind is. That’s why he wrote, ‘Don’t copy the behaviour and customs of this world, but let God transform you into a new person by changing the way you think’ (Romans 12:2 NLT).
The Greek word translated ‘transform’ is metamorphousthe. It gives us our English word metamorphosis.
Think of a caterpillar. It crawls through life seeing only what is immediately in front of it. Then comes a miracle. A metamorphosis. The caterpillar becomes a butterfly. The same creature, but with an entirely new perspective. It rises above what once kept it earthbound. That is God’s purpose for us his children. He doesn’t simply want to improve our thinking. He wants to transform it. He wants to renew our minds so that we begin to see ourselves, our circumstances and our future through the lens of his truth rather than through the fog of fear.
The Christian life is not simply turning over a new leaf. It is receiving a new life. God doesn’t merely polish the old you. He transforms you from the inside out.
Every lie believed becomes a prison. Truth is the key that unlocks the prison door. That’s why we don’t answer the enemy’s whispers with positive thinking. We answer them with God’s truth. Because the loudest voice in your head should never be louder than God’s voice in his Word.
As I climbed those carefully counted steps in Sydney, the Lord quietly reminded me why I was there. Not to impress 25,000 women, but to point them to Jesus. Not to draw attention to the messenger, but to proclaim the message.
Everything changed. The moment my eyes moved away from myself and back to Christ, my fears began to shrink. Fear and faith both listen to voices. Fear listens to the lies. Faith listens to the Lord.
The cross reminds me that my confidence has never rested in my ability. It rests entirely in God’s grace. God has never asked me to be impressive. He has asked me to be faithful. Faithfulness is always more important than fame. Faithful people don’t have to pretend. They don’t have to perform. They don’t have to prove themselves. They simply trust the One who called them.
Looking back, I smile when I remember counting those six steps. The steps were never the problem. The conversation in my head was. Perhaps that’s true for you too. Today you’ll climb some steps. Perhaps not onto a stage. Perhaps into an office. A hospital. A meeting. A difficult conversation. Or simply another ordinary day.
Before you climb those steps . . . open your Bible. Hear his voice. Believe his promises. Fill your mind with his truth. Take every thought captive. Let him transform you by renewing your mind.
Then take the first step. Then the second. Then the third. Not trusting yourself. Trusting Christ.
Jesus said, ‘My sheep hear my voice, and I know them, and they follow me’ (John 10:27 KJV). Today there will be many voices competing for your attention. Listen first to the voice of the Shepherd. The One who called you walks up every step with you. And when his voice becomes the loudest voice in your life, fear begins to loosen its grip. Faith begins to rise. Hope begins to sing. The lies begin to lose their power. Not because you have become stronger, but because you have discovered that Christ is enough.
He always has been. He always will be.
J.John
* Image enhanced using AI.
