For twenty years, I have been trying to edit the Lord’s Prayer.
I didn’t do it out loud, of course. But in the quiet, stubborn places of my heart, my version of that famous line usually sounded more like: “Thy will be done… provided it aligns with my plan, my timeline, and my comfort.”
If you are in discernment, you know the weight of those four words: Thy will be done. We say them every day, often on autopilot during Morning Prayer or at the tail end of a service. But lately, they have become the most challenging, beautiful, and terrifying words in my vocabulary.
The Path I Tried to Forge
Twenty years ago, I first felt the nudge. It wasn’t a loud shout; it was a persistent whisper—a sense that God was calling me toward ordination.
But twenty years ago, I wasn’t ready to submit. I looked at the path God was laying out and decided I could build a better one myself. I took a detour. I tried to forge my own way, chasing my own ambitions and trying to prove that I could be the sole architect of my life.
I thought that if I ran fast enough in the opposite direction, the call would eventually fade. I thought I could outpace God.
I was wrong.
Once He Has You...
There is a profound, slightly unsettling truth I’ve learned over these two decades: Once God has you, He never lets you go.
You can take the detours. You can hide in different careers, different cities, or different versions of yourself. But the call of God is “irrevocable.” He doesn’t hold a grudge about the twenty years I spent trying to do things my way; He simply waited for me to realise that His way was the only one that led home.
The Act of Submission
In our culture, “submission” is often seen as a weakness. We are told to be “self-made,” to “take control,” and to “manifest our own destiny.” For a neurodivergent brain—one that is used to having to fight twice as hard just to navigate a “typical” world—the idea of letting go of control feels like an immense risk. We spend so much of our lives trying to manage our environments just to survive that “surrender” feels counter-intuitive.
But discernment has taught me that submission isn’t about giving up; it’s about leaning in.
It’s realising that God has a bigger plan for me than I could ever have dreamed up for myself. It’s accepting that my “spiky profile”—the Dyslexia, the ADHD, and even that 20-year detour—isn’t a mistake or a waste of time. It’s all part of the blueprint He’s using.
Ready to Say It
Twenty years ago, I said, “My will be done.”
Today, as I stand in the middle of the formal discernment process, facing the assessments, the residential stays, and the interviews, I am finally ready to say the words and actually mean them.
Thy will be done. I’m no longer trying to forge a path; I’m trying to follow the one that was there all along. It’s a terrifying kind of freedom to realise that the pressure is off. I don’t have to “make” this happen through sheer force of will. I just have to submit to the One who is already making it happen.
God has a plan for us all. And after twenty years of trying to be the boss, I’m finally ready to be the servant.