If I perish, I perish

If I perish, I perish.

If my feelings wither under the weight of obedience, let them wither.

If my pride crumbles to dust in the presence of His will, then let the wind carry it away.

If the things I once held tightly—my dreams, my desires, my comfort, my plans—must die in the fire of surrender, then let them burn.

If my heart breaks in the process, let it break wide open— so that God might rebuild it stronger, softer, and more holy than before.

If I am misunderstood, if I am forgotten, if I am misjudged, if the cost of righteousness is loneliness, if the price of obedience is pain—

still I will say yes.

If that relationship fades,

if the door closes and never reopens,

if the dream dies in the dark before the dawn—

then let it all perish.

Because I was not made to be safe.

I was made to be faithful.

I will not be ruled by my feelings.

I will not be guided by fear.

I will not be swayed by applause, approval, or applause. I will stand in the place God has called me to stand—

even if the ground trembles beneath me.

Even if it costs me everything.

Even if I do not understand.

I will obey, not because it’s easy,

but because He is worthy.

Because the cross was not comfortable,

and redemption was not painless.

Because eternity matters more than the moment. Because obedience is worship.

And worship costs something.

So if I perish…

if all that I thought would be mine is lost…

if the outcome looks nothing like what I hoped—

still I will go.

Still I will trust.

Still I will obey.

Because even if I perish,

I will perish in the will of God—

and there is no safer place to die,

and no more sacred place to live.

Esther 4:16

“Go, gather together all the Jews that are present in Shushan, and fast ye for me, and neither eat nor drink three days, night or day: I also and my maidens will fast likewise; and so will I go in unto the king, which is not according to the law: and if I perish, I perish.”