Reflection: Obedience Is Not the Same as Self-Abandonment

For a long time, I thought obedience meant silence. I thought it meant enduring harm without protest. I thought it meant shrinking myself to keep the peace. I thought it meant forgiving quickly, forgetting easily, and never speaking too loudly about what hurt me. That wasn’t obedience. That was survival.

And survival will always disguise itself as righteousness when you’re raised in fear.

Since finding God, I’ve learned something that challenged everything I was taught: obedience does not require me to abandon myself. God has never asked me to return to silence. He has never asked me to tolerate abuse in His name. He has never confused submission with self-erasure.

Obedience, as God has shown me, looks like truth with boundaries. It looks like staying present without becoming powerless. It looks like speaking honestly without attacking. It looks like compassion without permission for harm. Most people assume healing means distance. That cutting people off is the only way to be free. And for many, that is the right and necessary choice. But obedience is not a formula — it’s discernment. And discernment requires listening, not copying someone else’s path.

God didn’t remove my voice — He restored it. He didn’t send me back unguarded — He covered me. He didn’t call me to relive trauma — He called me to face it with Him. That matters. Facing someone who hurt you does not mean reconciling without repentance. Loving someone does not mean trusting them blindly.

Forgiveness does not mean access. Boundaries are not a lack of faith — they are wisdom.

I am learning that obedience sometimes looks like standing where fear once ruled and saying, This stops here. Not with rage. Not with revenge. But with clarity and protection. I am not obeying God by being silent. I am obeying God by being honest.

And I am no longer confusing endurance with holiness.

🕊 Closing Prayer

Lord,

Teach me the difference between obedience and self-abandonment. Show me where You are calling me to stand — and where You are calling me to guard. Give me wisdom that is firm, not fearful. Compassion that does not erase truth. Boundaries that reflect Your protection, not my past wounds. Help me obey You without disappearing. And help me trust that You do not require my harm to prove my faith.

Amen.

XOXO,

The Healing Wildflower