The Unhindered Flow: The Simplicity of Yielding to Christ
One of the most freeing truths about the Christian life is that it is not about striving but yielding—not about trying harder but trusting in the One who already lives within you. Appropriating Christ as life is not a complicated formula; it is the simple, moment-by-moment recognition that He is already in you, fully present, fully sufficient. Yet, while it is simple in essence, it often does not feel simple at first.
For many of us, there was a time when we wrestled with how to "make" this truth work—wondering why we couldn’t seem to experience what others described, feeling stuck between understanding the theology and living it out practically. It’s only in retrospect that we see how beautifully straightforward it is: Christ is our life, and we simply trust Him to express that life through us.
The story below captures this reality in a way that might encourage you. It’s not about a dramatic breakthrough or a deep intellectual discovery—it’s about a woman who finally saw that the artesian well was never dry and that she didn’t need to keep striving to pump water. She simply needed to let the Spirit flow.
As you read, I pray that this encourages you—not as something you must achieve, but as a reminder that everything you long for in Christ is already yours. He is in you, working, even now. You are not waiting for something new to happen—you are simply learning to let His life rise and overflow. And that is a process He is faithful to accomplish in you.
Emma’s Story
Emma sat on the edge of her small garden, hands resting in the damp soil, the scent of lavender and rosemary drifting through the cool morning air. A soft breeze rustled the leaves, and the trickling sound of a nearby fountain filled the quiet space. It was in moments like this that she most sensed God’s presence—not in a dramatic way, but in a quiet knowing that He was with her.
Yet, just days before, she had been anything but at rest.
Life had a way of pressing in, and Emma had spent years under its weight. As a mother, wife, and friend, she had always tried to be strong—offering wisdom to those who sought it, pushing through exhaustion, and holding everything together when life felt like it was unraveling. Her prayers were often filled with pleas: Lord, give me strength. Give me patience. Help me love better. Help me do more.
But no matter how much she prayed for strength, she still found herself weary. No matter how much she asked for peace, she still felt the gnawing unrest of an anxious mind. The more she tried to produce joy, the more she realized how little she had to give.
Then came the evening when everything changed.
The Breaking Point
Emma had been folding laundry, her body tired from the day, when her teenage daughter walked in, tense and withdrawn.
“Mom, why do you always look so worried?”
The words stung—not because they were spoken in anger, but because they were true. Emma had spent so much time trying to hold everything together that she hadn’t realized how much of that strain had become part of her expression, her posture, even the way she moved through the day.
That night, she sat alone in the living room, the soft hum of the refrigerator the only sound in the house. She opened her Bible, her eyes falling on the words of Jesus:
"Whoever believes in Me, as the Scripture has said, streams of living water will flow from within him.” (John 7:38)
She had read that verse before, but this time it settled deep in her heart. Streams of living water…
Something was wrong. She had spent so much of her life begging God for things He had already given. She had prayed for strength when His Spirit was already within her. She had pleaded for peace when Jesus Himself was her peace. She had been striving for what was already hers.
At that moment, she saw it clearly: She had been living as though the well was dry.
The Release
Emma closed her eyes and breathed deeply.
Lord, You are in me. I don’t have to beg for what You’ve already given. I yield to You.
That was it. No long-winded prayer, no striving, no effort. Just trust.
And something shifted.
It wasn’t a dramatic wave of emotion. She didn’t feel an instant flood of joy. But something deep within her settled. Like an artesian well that had been capped for years, she sensed the water beginning to rise.
The next morning, she awoke before the rest of the house, stepping outside into the garden with her coffee. She felt the same breeze on her skin, but now she saw it differently—it wasn’t something she had to generate, just something she had to let move through her.
And that’s when she realized—this is how it plays out. The Spirit’s filling isn’t about striving, but surrender. It’s not about manufacturing something, but allowing what’s already there to rise and overflow.
A Life Transformed
From that day forward, Emma approached life differently.
Instead of praying, Lord, give me patience, she rested in the truth: Your patience is already within me, and I trust You to express it through me.
Instead of saying, Help me love this person, she simply yielded: Jesus, I trust You to love through me.
Instead of struggling for joy, she leaned into the truth: You are my joy, and I rest in You.
And as she walked in this reality, the change became evident. Her husband noticed it first. “You seem more at peace,” he observed one evening.
Then her daughter—her beautiful, perceptive daughter—smiled at her one afternoon and said, “Mom, you seem… lighter.”
Emma smiled back. “I think I finally figured out how to let the water rise.”
The Spirit’s Overflow
Emma’s life didn’t suddenly become easy. There were still challenges, still difficult days. But she was no longer struggling to draw from an empty well—because she knew now that it had never been empty. She simply had to let the Spirit rise and flow.
And as she did, her life became a fountain—not because she tried harder, but because she simply stopped blocking what was already within her.
Final Thought
The Spirit’s life within you is never lacking. When you yield in trust, His presence rises and overflows—bringing peace where there was striving, joy where there was exhaustion, and love where there was self-effort.
The question is not Do you have enough? The question is Will you let the water rise?
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This story is based upon today’s entry from Abide Above.. Photo credit: Unsplash.