It's Easy With You

After high school, about fifteen of us in Zimbabwe were dreaming of going abroad for university.

It was a big dream. And an expensive one.

There were applications to complete, schools to get into, and funding to find. We didn’t have all the answers, and the whole thing felt overwhelming.

So we would meet in a park downtown and pray together.

There wasn’t a grand agenda. We’d share updates about the schools we were applying to, encourage one another, and pray about the challenges we were facing.

Looking back, I think twelve out of the fifteen of us got into the schools we wanted, received funding, and found a way forward.

When I tell that story now, it almost sounds easy.

It didn’t feel easy when we were living it.

I’ve been thinking about that lately because I’m wondering how much harder I make life when I try to live it without depending on the Lord.

I know how to bring Him the big things. Healing. An impossible situation. A prayer that requires enormous faith.

But somewhere between those moments, I slip back into figuring things out on my own.

My wife, Aimee, and I were praying about that this morning.

We’ve been building AlreadyLoved to help parents introduce their children to God and help them see themselves the way He sees them.

Some people dismiss it as AI slop. Others love it because they can see what it might mean for a child to hear, again and again, what God believes about them.

And I find myself wondering: What kind of world would this be if children everywhere grew up knowing that?

It’s a beautiful dream.

But then I start thinking about everything it will take to get there.

I have to learn marketing. Solve the next problem. Find money we don’t have. Figure out how to make it all work.

And somewhere in there, everything gets tight and desperate.

I start carrying a dream about helping children know God as though it’s entirely up to me to make it happen.

This morning, as Aimee and I prayed, I found myself coming back to a simple thought:

Lord, I want to do this with You.

Not just for You. Not just in Your name.

With You.

I want to hear Your voice and Your thoughts. I want Your motives to become mine. I want to know what it looks like to work alongside You, even when the work in front of me is learning marketing or looking at our finances.

I think about Moses standing above the battle with his hands raised. When his hands were lifted, Israel prevailed. When they came down, the battle turned. And when he grew tired, Aaron and Hur came alongside him and held up his arms.

I can’t help seeing in that picture a posture of dependence.

I’m used to thinking of worship and work as two separate things. I can pray, lift my hands, and then get back to “real life”—back to the decisions and responsibilities.

But what if I could bring that same posture into the work?

Jesus says His yoke is easy and His burden is light.

And I keep wondering: Does that apply to the ordinary parts of my life too?

Is business easier in His presence? Parenting? Finances? What about healing, freedom, and the places where we need deliverance?

I struggle to think of one thing that isn’t better when it’s done with Him.

That doesn’t mean everything happens quickly or turns out the way I want. The applications in Zimbabwe still had to be filled out. The funding still had to be found. We still had to wait for answers.

But in that park, we brought our hopes and uncertainties to God, and we held them together.

And I wonder how much of what feels heavy in my life right now feels that way because I’m trying to do it for Him without actually doing it with Him.

Not just believing He’s there. But leaning on Him. Talking with Him. Listening. Trusting Him with the outcome.

Leaning on my Beloved.

I also wonder if we sometimes think the only spiritual question is, “Lord, what do You want me to do?”

That’s a question worth asking. But I wonder if He also wants to hear what’s on our hearts. What we want to build. What we’re dreaming about. What we’re afraid might not work.

And perhaps His invitation is, Can we do this together?

That’s what I’m learning to ask about Already Loved. I still catch myself slipping back into striving, picking up the weight as if I’m the only one carrying it.

But I can return to that prayer:

God, I want to do this with You.

What are you trying to figure out or carry right now?

What might it look like to do it with Him?

See you next Friday.