Lucas Leibforth

I don’t cry a lot. Not like that, anyway.

But after hearing the bridge of a worship song recently, I sat in my living room and broke down. It wasn’t loud or dramatic…my wife was upstairs, my son was napping and I just sat there in silence with my hands open as tears ran down my face. Not because I was hurting. Not because something was wrong. But because something finally felt right.

“If the highest place I reach is at Your feet, then I’ve done it all.
If the best thing that I’ve seen is Your glory, then I’ve seen it all.
…God, You are my everything.”

That lyric met me right in the middle of my striving. I’ve been in ministry long enough to know better, but I still fall into the rut of performance. Of trying to earn what’s already been given. Of chasing things that were never meant to satisfy. Titles. Tasks. The next big win. The next “wow” moment. And it’s subtle…it feels like you’re doing it for God, but deep down it’s about proving something. Being seen. Being enough.

But in that moment, sitting alone in my living room, I wasn’t doing anything. And still—God met me.

Jesus isn’t a step on the ladder—He’s the whole destination.

It reminded me of Paul’s words in Philippians 3:8:

“I consider everything a loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord.”

Everything else fades when you really see Jesus. Not just hear about Him. Not just work for Him. But see Him. Know Him. Feel His presence when there’s nothing to perform, no platform to stand on, just a quiet moment and the overwhelming weight of grace.

And then there’s this line:

“If I feel Your heart and never see Your hand, I still have it all…”

That one hit me in the gut. Because sometimes, if we’re honest, it feels like God isn’t doing much for us. We’re praying. We’re showing up. But the breakthrough doesn’t come, or the healing doesn’t happen, or the job doesn’t change, or the people don’t notice.

But He’s still there. And if all we get is His presence? That’s not less. It’s more than enough.

Habakkuk prayed it like this:

“Though the fig tree does not bud and there are no grapes on the vines…yet I will rejoice in the Lord, I will be joyful in God my Savior.” (Habakkuk 3:17–18)

That kind of faith doesn’t come from comfort. It comes from surrender. And that’s what that moment was for me. Not a big emotional hype. Just stillness. Just surrender. And Jesus, right there in it.

So maybe this is just for me. But maybe you’ve been there too.

• Maybe you’ve been chasing the “next” thing and missing the only thing.
• Maybe you’ve been waiting on God’s hand, but He’s inviting you to hear His heart.
• Maybe you’re tired of doing more when what you really need is to be with Him.

I don’t have a formula, and I don’t think God wants one. I just know that Jesus is better.

Better than the promotion.

Better than the praise.

Better than the plan you’re trying to piece together.

He’s everything.

If the highest place I ever get to is kneeling at His feet? I’m good.