Stories with Layla

Can I be honest?

Over the years, there have been many scriptures that have stood out to me where I’ve had to question the Lord. Not question whether the Word is true—because I trust and believe in the Word more and more each day—but question why.

Why did the Lord say what He said?

What is He really trying to communicate?

What is the intent and even the hidden perspective behind the Word?

I find myself seeking deeper understanding—not out of doubt, but out of a desire to know Him more.

For me, the Bible is a poetic love letter from our Savior to His children. It is a puzzle that, if engaged correctly, can reveal mysteries, treasures, and wisdom that we had never even thought about. From front to back, it tells the love story of how the Lord moved heaven and earth to rescue us from a prison that we never knew we were in.

God our Father, through His grace and mercy, gave the ultimate sacrifice on our behalf, as evidenced through the birth, death, and resurrection of His only Son, Jesus. And even more than that—the entire Old Testament serves as a foreshadow of that sacrifice, revealing the sovereignty and splendor of our God.

The Bible holds countless messages and intimate instruction for the believer’s life in real time. However, it is up to us to knock, to seek, and to chase after the Lord through His Word.

One of the scriptures that the Lord dealt with me about was Luke 9:23–26:

“If any man will come after me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross daily, and follow me…”

For years, I asked God—why is this scripture so raw and blunt?

I would read it and read it again, but walk away feeling confused, sometimes sad, and even a little fearful about its meaning.

Why would the Lord place us on this earth with family, friends, and both material and spiritual blessings, but then say:

“Oh, by the way—the life I have given you is no longer yours.”

To follow Him, we must deny ourselves—the very person that He created—and surrender everything we have, including the things He Himself blessed us with.

In my mind, this felt contradictory. It almost sounded like a bait and switch—where the Lord gives us happiness, security, and contentment, but then says that to truly be with Him, we must give it all up.

I didn’t question God’s love or His sovereignty—but I did wrestle with why.

Why was God giving what felt like an ultimatum?

Why couldn’t I just love Him and continue living life as I knew it?

And if I’m being honest, there was an even deeper question underneath it all:

Did I truly want to follow Jesus if it meant losing myself in the process?

Because while I knew I had faults, I also knew that I kind of liked myself. I was comfortable. I wasn’t necessarily ready to give up the pleasures, the progress, and even the status I had built over the years.

So let’s get into it.

Earlier in Luke 9:21–22, Jesus tells His disciples not to reveal who He is, and He begins to explain that He will suffer many things, be rejected, be killed, and then raised again on the third day. And it is right after that moment that He tells them:

Deny yourself.

Take up your cross daily.

Follow Me.

He goes on to say that whoever tries to save their life will lose it, but whoever loses their life for His sake will save it. He asks what it profits a man to gain the whole world but lose his soul. And He warns that if anyone is ashamed of Him and His words, He will be ashamed of them before the Father and the angels.

I’ve heard countless sermons on this scripture, and if I’m honest, many of them only strengthened my uneasiness.

In many religious circles, this passage is often presented with language and catchphrases that almost guarantee suffering, with little emphasis on the relationship and reward that come with following Christ. The focus tends to be on endurance—on prayer, faith, and long-suffering—as the pathway to victory.

And while those things are true, that emphasis can sometimes create an unnecessary burden. It can lead people into a version of Christianity that feels joyless—where we begin to equate misery with holiness, and where experiencing the love of Christ somehow feels like compromise.

But as I continued to study the Word and dialogue with the Lord, He began to slowly open my eyes to what He wanted me to understand from this scripture.

Salvation Is a Process

The Lord tells us to pick up our cross—and that represents our salvation.

Salvation is a choice. And once you truly choose it, it is secure. But that choice is not just a one-time event.

It begins with confessing with your mouth and believing in your heart that Jesus died for your sins, as stated in Romans 10:9. But it does not end there.

Salvation is not simply a heartfelt confession followed by continuing life the same way we always have. It is not accepting Christ while continuing in the same sinful lifestyle or mindset (Romans 6:1–2).

Salvation is a continuous process.

It is getting to know Jesus on an intimate level.

It is growing in relationship with Him.

And most importantly, it is presenting our bodies as a living sacrifice—holy and acceptable unto the Lord—which is our reasonable service (Romans 12:1).

When we present ourselves as a living sacrifice, we are surrendering ourselves to Jesus and to the Kingdom of God. We are acknowledging that He has purchased us with a price.

We are no longer imprisoned by the enemy or by our own strength, trying to navigate life alone. We are free—to serve, to follow, and to share the good news of the Gospel through both our words and our actions.

Jesus did not set us free just for ourselves.

He did it to further the Kingdom of God.

And that is what He meant when He said that we must deny ourselves, not be ashamed of Him, and follow Him. He is calling us to put Him first in all that we do—to tell others about His love and to share the gift of salvation with the world.

And when we truly put Him first, He promises to take care of everything else (Matthew 6:33).

But our flesh resists that.

Our flesh doesn’t want to put anyone—or anything—before itself. It worries about how we appear, whether others will be offended, and whether we are capable or qualified.

That is when we must deny our soulish nature and choose to operate in the Spirit.

And even then, we must be prepared—because the enemy will try to distract, discourage, and attack. Sometimes it affects our emotions. Sometimes it brings fear. Sometimes it even reopens wounds or trauma.

But the Word reminds us:

The sufferings of this present time are not worthy to be compared to the glory that shall be revealed in us. (Romans 8:18)

We Cannot Do This Alone

Jesus is the one who helps us deny ourselves.

We cannot do it in our own strength or willpower.

When we pick up our cross and follow Him, we receive the Holy Spirit—the Comforter (John 14:26, John 16:7). He is the one who changes us through daily acts of obedience and surrender. He is the one who transforms us to become more like Christ.

That is why we are born again (John 3:7, 1 Peter 1:23).

Our mind, our heart, and the life we once knew begin to change over time. We are transformed—not instantly, but progressively—into a life that is led by the Spirit rather than by our own desires (Romans 12:2).

Relationship Matters — We Are Not Alone

This is where the Lord truly shifted my perspective.

When Jesus says, “Follow Me,” He is not walking ahead of us at a distance where we cannot see Him, hear Him, or feel Him.

He is with us.

He lives in us.

Without that connection, we can do nothing.

We cannot walk in His will.

We cannot live a truly holy and consecrated life.

We cannot obtain godly wisdom.

Following Jesus means listening and being obedient when He speaks—whether through His Word or in our spirit.

And we cannot hear Him if we do not have a relationship with Him.

He says His sheep hear His voice (John 10:27).

Following Him means being led. It means surrendering to His instructions.

And that doesn’t mean we can’t ask questions.

The Lord even says, “Come, let us reason together” (Isaiah 1:18).

A Changed Perspective

When I used to read Luke 9:23–26, I pictured Jesus walking up a hill alone—bruised, beaten, carrying a heavy cross, being mocked and rejected.

And if I’m honest, that image made following Him feel intimidating.

Because reading the scripture with that picture in mind, not many people would jump up and say, “Yes, Lord—I’ll go.”

That’s when I said to God, “Let us reason together.”

And what He showed me changed everything.

He showed me that this is about relationship.

It’s about perspective.

Who do you worship?

Where is your treasure?

If your focus is on self-preservation, you will not want to follow Him.

If you are trying to control people and circumstances, you will struggle to follow Him.

If you rely only on your own strength, you will not follow Him—because you do not trust Him.

And if you are not healed from past hurts and trauma, it can be difficult to fully receive His love and open your heart to Him.

What He Showed Me About Salvation

The Lord reminded me that He knew me before I was ever conceived.

He loved me then.

He loves me now.

He loved me when He became sin for me and died on the cross.

He loved me when He rose again and took the keys of death, hell, and the grave—giving me the opportunity to have life, and life more abundantly.

He tore the veil so that I could come directly to Him—without shame, without guilt, without needing a sacrifice.

Because He was the sacrifice.

But He also showed me something deeper:

It’s not enough to believe in Him.

I must submit to Him.

Because there was a time when I believed—but I didn’t truly follow. I didn’t fully trust Him. I didn’t seek Him first. I allowed other things to take priority in my life.

And if I’m honest, part of me believed that following Him meant I would miss out on something.

But what He showed me is this:

Salvation is not loss.

Salvation is healing.

Salvation is deliverance.

Salvation is freedom.

Not just freedom one day in eternity—but freedom right now.

Freedom from bondage.

Freedom from fear.

Freedom from everything that has tried to hold us back.

And I’m still growing in that.

I still have moments where I struggle with trust.

Moments where I want to hold on to control.

But each day, Jesus helps me surrender a little more.

Trust a little deeper.

Follow a little closer.

And now when I read Luke 9:23, I no longer hear it as a harsh command.

I hear it as an invitation.

An invitation into relationship.

An invitation into transformation.

An invitation into true life.

The life I thought I would lose…

was actually the life I was finally meant to find.