Tag Archives: trust

Stillness (Part 2): Is God Crazy?

Leave a reply

God has a knack for suggesting stillness when it sounds like the worst possible idea. Imagine the Israelites leaving behind hundreds of years of slavery in Egypt, and suddenly seeing the Egyptian army coming after them as they approach the Red Sea. Terrified, they declare they would rather go back to be slaves than die. Sounds logical to me. But Moses says, “Don’t be afraid. Just stand still and watch the Lord rescue you today. The Egyptians you see today will never be seen again. The Lord himself will fight for you. Just stay calm.” (Exodus 14:13,14 NLT) “Just stay calm”? Really, God? You’re just going to say that? Of all the times to stand still, this seems like the worst. 

On some level I can relate to the Israelites, being trapped between slavery and salvation. My brokenness—from which God has already delivered me in Christ—pursues and traps me. Fear and anxiety rush in and I am ready to run back to my slavery: impatience, control, and being right. I would rather perform than be set free. I am afraid of myself and the cavernous ugliness I have seen inside. When things are not turning out how I want, it sounds much safer to reach for control than to sit between the enemy and an unknown outcome. But sometimes that is exactly what I am invited to do. And sometimes watching and waiting is the catalyst for victory.

Last winter our marriage stepped off solid ground onto a suspension bridge. There was a bit of wobbling and a few moments where we held our breath. After one of many difficult conversations, I was left looking down at the chasm below and wondering if that’s where we were going to end up. As I prayed, I had a strong impression that I was to watch and wait—that God was on the move but I needed to be still. So I was. By God’s grace I didn’t dwell on painful words or unanswerable questions. I waited. When fear rolled in with a choking sensation and suggested that I fight or flee, I prayed aloud, reminding God what He had asked of me and asking for His help to continue watching and waiting. After several days I saw God’s handiwork, in the form of a handwritten letter from my husband. God fought the battle for me as I watched and waited.

When God is involved, stillness can be productive. Look at the moment of stillness in this story of Jesus going to Nain:

Now it happened… that [Jesus] went into a city called Nain… and when He came near the gate of the city, behold, a dead man was being carried out, the only son of his mother; and she was a widow. And a large crowd from the city was with her. When the Lord saw her, He had compassion on her and said to her, “Do not weep.” Then He came and touched the open coffin, and those who carried him stood still. And He said, “Young man, I say to you, arise.” So he who was dead sat up and began to speak. And He presented him to his mother. (Luke 7:11-15, NKJV)

Did you catch it? The pallbearers stand still. 

When something is dead—whether it be a dream, an opportunity, a relationship—we take the next logical step and bury it. And rightly so, for dead things left in the open begin to stink. But Jesus may be audacious enough to stop us on the way to the hole in the ground. I want to get the ordeal over with. But if I pay attention to Jesus, He may simply be asking me to pause. 

I realize when I look at these stories that it can be ill-advised to be logical with Jesus. He may ask me sometimes to stop and be still when I am taking what is the undeniably obvious next step. Am I willing to still myself and see what He is going to do?

There are times to take action, yes. There are also times to stand still. Permit me one more Bible story: Judah’s king, Jehoshaphat, is terrified by the approach of not one, but three armies. He fasts and prays, and orders his whole kingdom to do the same. In response, God’s Spirit comes upon a guy named Jahaziel, and this is what he says: “‘Listen, all you people of Judah and Jerusalem! Listen, King Jehoshaphat! This is what the Lord says: Do not be afraid! Don’t be discouraged by this mighty army, for the battle is not yours, but God’s… you will not even need to fight. Take your positions; then stand still and watch the Lord’s victory’” (2 Chronicles 20:15-17b, NLT, emphasis added). Sure enough, the enemies coming against Judah in battle kill each other, and Jehoshaphat’s army just watches. 

Isn’t that crazy? 

Is it possible that sometimes I miss what God is saying because I’m only listening for actions I can take? Maybe I give God multiple-choice, but His answer isn’t on the list. Doing nothing seems counterintuitive to problem solving. 

If we are parents, sometimes we have to tell our kids to wait: for cookies to cool, for glue to dry, for the day of the party to arrive. By the same token, we may be asked by Daddy God to wait when it seems obvious what the next step ought to be. The antidote for white-knuckled waiting—or rushing in headlong—is the slow building of trust, creating a safe space for stillness. As God shows His heart to us, we let His love soak deep into our bones so that we may trust Him, crazy though He may be.

blank

A couple things to check out: 1) this freeing song about stillness, by Hillary Scott. 2) my new Facebook page @jesusmyfavoritesubject. Love ya’ll. Thanks for reading.

Rest… Again

2 Replies

When I come to Jesus trying to fix things and in despair over my humanity, His response is usually the same: He invites me to rest. Always I want to do more, and always He invites me to do less. This has been a consistent pattern for years. It is hard for me to be still and know that He is God (Psalm 46:10). It is hard for me to be still and allow myself to be human.

Growing up in the faith tradition called Seventh-Day Adventism, a 24-hour seventh-day Sabbath is a central component of my faith story. This has its pros and cons. As a performance oriented person who has trouble sitting down and who feels uncomfortable when I’m “relaxing”, growing up with 24 hours of down-time built into my week was an incredible gift. With no effort on my part, I developed a habit that would have felt like sheer torture had I tried to develop it later in life. One of the cons of growing up in a religion centered around Sabbath is that resting on the seventh day can start to work its way up to the level of importance of Jesus’ death and resurrection. There was an unspoken idea (well, occasionally it was blurted right out) that I better not work on the Sabbath if I wanted to be saved. But while avoiding work on the Sabbath was a priority, no one actually talked about what rest looks like (or I wasn’t listening). So here I find myself, keeping a faith tradition of Sabbath that may be as old as time, but I can’t tell you what it means to rest in a Biblical sense. And yet… I am catching glimpses.

October – While reading a novel, I am surprised when tears spring to my eyes at the words of Ellie Whitcomb: “Today’s news is always tomorrow’s liner for the canary cage” (from the novella Engaging Father Christmas by Robin Jones Gunn). This soul-tiredness, this sense of deep responsibility, this desire to get life right – it weighs heavy on me. Knowing that today’s news is no longer news tomorrow is comforting. I take a deep breath. I learn that taking today less seriously might be the oxygen of rest.

October 17 – Lord, will You give me courage to feel sadness, and is it too much to ask to not get lost in it? “Take a deep soul breath,” You say, “You are seen and loved.” Maybe now is not the time to ask You to show me my sin as I was planning to do. Or perhaps this is my sin: trying hard instead of resting in You, and then disconnecting from everyone because trying so hard takes all my energy. I don’t know. I can see You with me all along – waking me up at the exact right moment, giving me the idea of supper by the fire when I was too tired to cook for Friday supper – and Michael suggesting a smoothie and making ramen noodles. You’ve been there in music and stillness and walking me through a lot of days without worrying about my to-do list. I just hate it when I feel like a liability instead of an asset. I want to be strong and good and positive and energetic all the time. I don’t like tired and sad and lonely. But as I sit here I am confident of Your presence in spite of my confusion. And I know You are teaching me that You are in the mess. Perhaps as You embrace me in my messiness I can learn to rest even in the mess. My heart doesn’t have to be vacuumed and dusted for You to be comfortable there. In a way You bring Your own cleanliness with You. And that’s a relief, because if You were waiting on me You’d never be able to move in. Thank You for quieting me with Your love. Sometimes rest comes in getting more comfortable with brokenness. It’s ok to not be ok. This too shall pass. I am called to a life of resting in God’s faithfulness, not a life of trying to be good (or energetic).

October 29 – I feel lost. Am I supposed to have a sense of purpose? What ties together parenting and wifeing and cleaning and texting friends and taking meals to people and being a church? My life feels so scattered. I feel scattered. I have a feeling that the purpose that ties all together is love… but that feels so ethereal, so not me. I’m still selfish and controlling and think the world revolves around me. What does it look like to claim my identity in Christ? He lived and died to accomplish something, right? Why do I still feel like I’m not getting it? God, what are you doing? Where are You at work and how do I join You? …You say I’m already joining You in Your work. You say my messiness is a distraction. And I say, How could it not be? It’s like someone screaming in my face while I’m trying to meditate. I know Your first goal is not to fix me… what do You want? I’ve got nothing, Lord. So whatever is my part better be easy or be something I’m doing already. “Rest,” You say. “Let your full weight down on Jesus. Breathe in His love. Let Him figure everything out. Release Every Single Thing to Jesus: R.E.S.T. in Jesus.” Release writing and reading, pictures and parenting, scheduling and holiday preparations, yard work and cooking, wifeing and friending, praying and sleeping, cleaning and to-do lists, caring for others and inviting them to Your kingdom, crocheting and quilting, applesauce and sweet relish, my emotions and my thoughts, my purpose and my heart, getting up in the morning. Sometimes rest comes in trust. I can take a deep breath and let God be perfect and faithful, not me. I can let go my strangle hold on all the things.

November 1 – When I read the Bible I learn that rest is not a state of mind I could somehow put myself in. It is a gift. “Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest,” Jesus said (Matthew 11:28). Maybe my next move toward Jesus is about doing less, not more. Come to think of it, hasn’t He been telling me that for a year? No, I think longer. I remember declining to help with Vacation Bible School as a turning point, summer of 2016; and the year of therapy in 2017. I don’t think it will ever stop, this untangling from lies. Rest comes in letting God be the “untangler” and letting myself be the “rester.”

December 4 – God has whispered stillness to me in this chorus (sung to the tune of Jesus Is The Answer): “Tobi’s not the answer for the world today. Above her there is Jesus, Jesus is the way.” It is humbling to realize how often and how deeply I want to be the answer. Not only do I want to live my perfect life, I want to help everyone around me live theirs. If they need money, I want to give it to them. If they need marital advice, I secretly hope God will give me perfect words to counsel them. If they need emotional support, I want them to join my small group. In my own life there is a continuous supply of situations that need to be fixed: the dirty house, the kids’ attitudes, the broken toys, the snafu with extended family… But when I remember Jesus is above me, I can take a deep breath. I learn that letting Someone else be in charge can be freeing.

January 7 – I soak in these words from Michael Card: “Trusting Him is no more than the simple awareness that He is holding you.” I learn that rest comes in trusting that I am held.

February – I am afraid of not being in control. Somewhere in the underpinnings of my psyche I believe that if I’m not in control of myself and the people around me, all is lost. There is a sense of catastrophe that squeezes at my chest in the everyday moments that are out of my control – schedules changing, kids in a yelling match, spilled paint and spilled milk, watching my husband react to the kids in a way I don’t think is helpful. I feel an awful mix of being overwhelmed and helpless. I fight by taking control, or flee by going deadpan. I’m afraid to engage, to show up. Parenting has a way of throwing this fear of losing control up in my face over, and over, and over again. These are the moments when it is hardest to take the deep breath God is offering. The Holy Spirit within reminds me: It’s ok when other people don’t do what I want. I don’t have to control. God is my provider and His resources never run out.

February 8 – At bedtime I realize I cannot possibly sleep in the state I’m in. I am anxious. My heart is heavy and it tells my body to hold on tight – to what, I’m not sure. I fetch my phone and begin listening to music, letting the tears flow. In music I find hope, I find permission to be broken. I meet the Spirit of God, holding me yet again. I begin to breathe. I listen to a song my sister shared with me over a cup of shared brokenness: You Can Do This Hard Thing, by Carrie Newcomer. The words give me permission to be sad, and in the sadness I find courage: “You can do this hard thing. You can do this hard thing. Its not easy I know, but I believe that it’s so. You can do this hard thing.”

So rest comes: in music, trust, better knowing who God is, loosening my grip, getting comfortable with brokenness, receiving the Gift, letting God be the One in control. Sometimes rest in body and spirit happen simultaneously, but often it is one without the other. I think God wants all of us to experience both – to enjoy quietness of mind and body; to enjoy both inner peace and physical stillness. I have never been good at either. But God is persistent – almost pesky – with His offering of rest. Thank you Father/Jesus/Spirit.

Photo by Ihsan Aditya from Pexels

God Room

2 Replies

I’m reading Franklin Graham’s book, Rebel With A Cause. In it there is a chapter titled “God Room,” in which Graham describes some of his experiences with Bob Pierce, and what Pierce taught him about God room. Here’s how he describes it.

“What do you mean?” I asked him once when he started talking about “God room.” He gave me a glance that was close to disgust, almost as if to say, “Don’t you know?” He took a deep breath and sighed before he said, “‘God room’ is when you see a need and it’s bigger than your human abilities to meet it. But you accept the challenge. You trust God to bring in the finances and the materials to meet that need.

“You get together with your staff, your prayer partners, and supporters, and you pray. But after all is said and done, you only raise a portion of the resources required.

“Then you begin to watch God work. Before you know it, the need is met. At the same time, you understand you didn’t do it. God did it. You allowed Him room to work.”

Franklin Graham, Rebel With A Cause

Graham’s book is full of “God room” stories – for hospitals in war-torn countries, refugees in crisis, remote populations unreached by the gospel, and ministries in developed countries. As he described this principal of how God works, it resonated with me. After all, isn’t there always a gap between finite humans and infinite God? And isn’t that gap where God does His best work? Isn’t that gap where Jesus is?

As I pondered “God room,” I thought perhaps a project I’m involved with for a local ministry would be a good place to put it to the test, so to speak. But on God’s prompting I realized my character is where “God room” is happening in my life. Certainly if ever there was a gap between resources and the desired outcome, this is it! The more I become acquainted with God’s kingdom of love, the more I see my brokenness and my deeply fearful and selfish condition. And the wider the gap appears between me and the way God describes Himself and His people.

I have wanted so badly for God to tell me up front what He’ll do in my character. I have given up on being loving and humble and gracious because it is SO FAR from reality. But now I think, maybe God allows me to see the dire condition of my character as an invitation to step into God room.

To become a Christian – to follow and believe Christ – is a bold move. As a Christian I make claims about who I am that seem completely unfounded in reality. I say I am a new creation, an actual child of God Himself, a chosen one. Sometimes when I hear these old sayings with new ears I realize just how wild and crazy that is. And I see how far my character is from God’s kingdom of love.

But God, with His glorious, unlimited resources, empowers me with inner strength through His Spirit, to trust Him, and to experience His love, which makes me complete! (see Ephesians 3:14-21) This is God working, in His “God room.”

When I think of all this, I fall to my knees and pray to the Father, the Creator of everything in heaven and on earth. I pray that from his glorious, unlimited resources he will empower you with inner strength through his Spirit. Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God’s love and keep you strong. And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is. May you experience the love of Christ, though it is too great to understand fully. Then you will be made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God. Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think. Glory to him in the church and in Christ Jesus through all generations forever and ever! Amen.

Ephesians 3:14-21, New Living Translation

I can live in the human room, or I can live in “God room.” Only by God’s grace can I move into God’s room, and He decides what and how to provide. Graham said Pierce had a terrible temper that never went away. I don’t get to decide which rough edges God will smooth in my character.

God, the more I know You, the more I am ok with You deciding what happens in the God room. (Of course God decides! It’s His room). I am content just being there with You. What an intoxicating combination of peace and power, gentleness and glory, and intimacy between infinitely different beings. Only with God could safety and wildness coexist so richly.

Graham said Pierce reminded him of these words of Jesus: “The wind blows wherever it wants. Just as you can hear the wind but can’t tell where it comes from or where it is going, so you can’t explain how people are born of the Spirit.” (John 3:8, NLT)

I have spent so much time trying to get what I want, when God is working somewhere else. This is spitting into the wind. I don’t want to spit into the wind, I want to move with the Wind. And last I checked there is a mighty gale and simultaneously a gentle breeze blowing in this mysterious place of belonging I now call “God room.”

Photo by Guy Kawasaki from Pexels

Soul Hurry

1 Reply

The “Skill”

I have a skill I don’t like to talk about, but I’m going to talk about it anyway. My skill is this: I can hurry even when there’s nothing to do. I know, it sounds impossible. But I assure you I’m actually quite good at it. Partly because I can hurry with my mind and/or my body, so even if I’m sitting on the couch I can do a lot of mental hurrying. Hurrying is the evil twin of my long-cherished idol, productivity. I feel safest when I am getting things done, but if I can’t actually be accomplishing something there is always hurry to help me feel better.

The Story

If I go back really far, I think I can remember a time before hurry was my identity. As a young child, I didn’t have to worry much about time because the grownups did that. I could play without thinking about time or schedule. I remember spending hours washing one meal’s dishes – making as many soap bubbles as possible. And those are good memories. Kids are skilled at being fully present (and very slow).

As my awareness of time increased and my responsibilities grew, somewhere along the line I realized that if I hurried I was valuable. People who get things done are desirable – as family members, students, employees, and even friends. And it’s not that getting things done is bad. But for me it was a slippery slope from being a hard working teen to adopting hurry as a frame of mind and a way of having value. Without my knowing it, hurry became a deeply ingrained part of my identity.

Then – a couple decades later – God asked our family to make a lifestyle change – to pursue slowness, so to speak. Around the first of this year we eliminated most afternoon and evening commitments and reduced weekend activities. We began to more carefully consider all the invitations and opportunities that came our way. Then the pandemic hit and our pace has slowed even more.

Somehow the slowing of my schedule has opened my eyes to the hurry of my soul. Here I am with only the basic tasks of living before me, and I’m still carrying around this sense that I am not being productive enough or fast enough. I’m still rushing my kids, even though we have nowhere to go. I begin to wonder, do I have hurry in my soul? How is it possible that I can have nothing on my schedule and still feel compelled to rush through the dishes; to lament a to-do list not finished when I have all of tomorrow to finish it; to hurriedly try to fold the last load of laundry while yelling instructions to my children to get ready for bed?

The Evidence

I’ve noticed hurry has many faces. Most of them are smiled upon in our culture. Here are some of the ways hurry shows up in my life:

  • Efficiency: if I’m not washing or shaving something, I’m not in the shower – I never just stand under the water. When I carry groceries in from the car, I bring them all in one load even though it cuts the circulation off in my arm and I can’t open the door because my hands are full.
  • Another face of hurry is busyness: oh, there’s a slot on my calendar not filled? I’ll plan a play date, sign up for an evening class, start exercising with a friend, start a new craft project, clean the basement.
  • And let’s not forget always saying “yes”: sure, I can direct VBS; I can listen to all your problems; I can make 21 meals a week from scratch; I can do that project; I’ll be a board member and deaconess and volunteer at the elementary school.
  • Hurry also shows up in multitasking: I always feel better when I’m doing laundry and dishes at the same time, catching up on emails while helping my daughter with homework, crocheting while I watch a movie… you get the idea.
  • Another evidence of hurry in my life is that I cannot abide waiting. Say we’re leaving the house to exercise. I’m ready, but my husband is just putting his socks on. It would cause me physical discomfort to wait for one minute. So I start something – wipe down the kitchen counter, take out the trash, open some mail, pull weeds in the yard. Waiting is simply too uncomfortable. If I have to wait, I immediately find something to do. Consequently, I am often the last one in the car when our family leaves the house. Everyone else buckles up while I’m finishing the thing I started because I couldn’t wait.
  • I am never early to anything. Being early is excruciating. Everyone is just milling around; nothing is happening. I could have been doing something else with this time. I would much rather be five minutes late than shoot for being on time and somehow end up five minutes early.
  • While I’m airing all my dirty laundry, I will also note that I am really bad at “hanging out.” The concept of getting together with one or more friends for an indefinite period of time with an indefinite purpose is terrifying. I thrive in groups with a purpose – exercise, accountability, music, church, mom groups. Also, I can probably count on one hand the number of times in my life I have called someone “just to chat.” I simply don’t know how, and the vulnerability along with the potential of wasting time make this pastime completely out of the question for me.

I think you get the idea. Hurry is showing up all over the place in my life. It feels like I gave hurry permission to be my master. Did I sign something without realizing it? How did I sell my soul and not even notice?

Hurry is like a drug. It’s my go-to when I feel stressed or vulnerable. And if I’m not hurrying myself, I hurry the people around me. I ask my kids, “Why are you still eating?” “How could you possibly take that long to put away one toy?” “You’ve been in your room for 20 minutes and you’re still not dressed?!” I hurry my husband: get out of bed faster; get the yard work done sooner; how can you possibly spend that long in the bathroom?! As John Mark Comer says of his slowed-down life, “I feel… like a drug addict coming off meth.” (From his book The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry)

The Underlying Causes

So the evidence is in: I have a problem, and I’m calling it hurry. But what is underneath the hurry? I am afraid of something – no, two things. I am afraid of finding out I am not valuable, and I am afraid of finding out I am not in control. I believe the first statement is false and the second is true, but somehow they get all entangled inside me.

Not valuable. Somewhere deep in myself I’m still not sure about the gospel. This too-good-to-be-true story drenched in reckless mercy and grace… it can’t really apply to me, right? Some days this is my question. I don’t ask it that boldly. No, I scold myself for making another mommy mess-up. I replay the words I wish I hadn’t said. I keep score.

Other days, when I’m feeling a bit more successful at life, I get cocky. I think I have some control over my life, and I’m exercising my skills – including hurry in all its forms – to insure a good outcome. On these days, I don’t have questions. I feel self-sufficient, and I think maybe I’m finally figuring life out. I take comfort in the (false) security of control (let’s be honest, this is me playing god – being my own savior).

The Antidote

I wonder, what is the antidote to hurry? What will soothe and satisfy this scrambling and striving in my soul? Could there be a truth that addresses both the striving days and the cocky days? The I’m-not-good-enough and the I-(think)-I’m-in-control days? I’m reading John chapter five and am arrested by verse 30: “I can do nothing on my own. I judge as God tells me. Therefore, my judgment is just, because I carry out the will of the one who sent me, not my own will.” (NLT) Not my own will. Is this the way? What if I’m not living for myself? What if my choices are not calculated to control my own destiny? What if a real life is a life lived in continual surrender: not my will, but Thine. Perhaps the way to cease striving, to live a valuable life, is to be in a constant state of surrender. Perhaps the way to stop grasping for control is to trust the will of Someone who is in control.

I have circled around this concept before. I have marveled that surrender is, in fact, freeing. That if I’m not in charge of my life, there is nothing to worry about. I’m just doing what the Big Guy is telling me to do, and it’s His job to work it all out. But the lies I have internalized fight back. The moments – day in and day out – letting His agenda be more important than mine – these moments are hard. I do cry tears as I let go. And sometimes I hold on and won’t let go. It is a slow practice, and imperfect is a hard road for a recovering perfectionist.

The Trade

Am I willing to make the trade? Will I trade control for trust and hurry for surrender? Rather than the exhausting cycle of hurry and control, I could let surrender and trust feed on each other: trust allowing me to surrender, and surrender sending me skidding into the necessity of trust. I could let my Creator speak the truth of my value over me, and I could admit that He is in control.

Here I am, hurrying and worrying through slow and quiet days. Here God shows up, opening my eyes to this parasite on my soul, and offering to take it from me. Slowly He heals, for He knows that giving up control will cause bleeding. Yet He never gives up, because He is determined that I should have the best of His gifts, the abundance of His grace, the wonder of His mercy, the safety of His companionship.

As I haltingly respond to this invitation to trade hurry for surrender, I repeat to myself the “Creed of the Beloved” so simply and beautifully penned by Bobby Schuller:

I’m not what I do.
I’m not what I have.
I’m not what people say about me.
I am the beloved of God.
It’s who I am.
No one can take it from me.
I don’t have to worry.
I don’t have to hurry.
I can trust my friend Jesus and share his love with the world.

Obedience, Part 4 – What Follows Obedience

1 Reply

Here we are at Part 4, after an unexpected detour for Obedience, Part Unknown.

Obedience, Part 1 – Turning
Obedience, Part 2 – Agreeing or Trusting?
Obedience, Part 3 – What Precedes Obedience
Obedience, Part 4 – What Follows Obedience
Obedience, Part 5 – Disobedience

Don’t Settle

There are several passages in the Old Testament that outline the blessings that follow obedience to God. One such passage is Leviticus 26:3-13. I love the final verse in this passage: “I am the Lord your God, who brought you out of the land of Egypt so you would no longer be their slaves. I broke the yoke of slavery from your neck so you can walk with your heads held high.”

At some point I think most of us realize we are slaves. In fact, the nearer we move toward God the more clearly we see our bondage to sin and self-preservation, and our powerlessness. To borrow from Alcoholics Anonymous: “We admitted that we were powerless over our problems and that our lives had become unmanageable.” God allows us to see our brokenness, God brings us out of bondage, and God breaks the yoke. He is able to set us free so we can hold our heads high. He does not want us to settle.

If I may quote C. S. Lewis again, he says this so unashamedly in Mere Christianity:

On the one hand, God’s demand for perfection need not discourage you in the least in your present attempts to be good, or even in your present failures. Each time you fall He will pick you up again. And He knows perfectly well that your own efforts are never going to bring you anywhere near perfection. On the other hand, you must realise from the outset that the goal towards which He is beginning to guide you is absolute perfection; and no power in the whole universe, except you yourself, can prevent Him from taking you to that goal. That is what you are in for. And it is very important to realise that. If we do not, then we are very likely to start pulling back and resisting Him after a certain point. I think that many of us, when Christ has enabled us to overcome one or two sins that were an obvious nuisance, are inclined to feel (though we do not put it into words) that we are now good enough. He has done all we wanted Him to do, and we would be obliged if He would now leave us alone… We may be content to remain what we call “ordinary people”: but He is determined to carry out a quite different plan. To shrink back from that plan is not humility; it is laziness and cowardice. To submit to it is not conceit or megalomania; it is obedience.” – Mere Christianity, pp. 172-173

What follows obedience? More obedience. We will never be done turning toward God; and on this side of heaven He will never be done healing us, delivering us, and transforming us.

Grace To Give Us Ears

In reading just a handful of texts regarding obedience in the Old Testament, a significant list of blessings emerged. Going back to the passage in Leviticus chapter 26, I noted these blessings in addition to the breaking of the yoke of bondage:

  • Abundant provision
  • Peace and safety
  • Exceptional power and influence over enemies
  • God’s favor
  • God’s presence
  • Belonging to God

I find it interesting that the second three blessings appear to be of much greater spiritual value than the first three, but God gives the first three first. Maybe He knows we need to be safe and provided for in order for our feeble hearts to move toward Him. I once heard it said that a hungry child has no ears. As humans we are so starved for worthiness that we are unable to even hear what God is offering. Often I feel ashamed for being weak, for starting small, for wanting provision, and safety, and power over enemies. But God kindly provides those things, thus enabling my ears to hear and my eyes to see His favor, His presence, and His offer of belonging. 

What follows obedience? Blessings beyond our wildest imagination. We cannot even imagine what it is like to live continually in God’s favor and presence, in a state of belonging to Him, perfectly in peace as He cares for us with abundant provision, while enjoying exceptional power and influence over our enemies (enemies that are often not flesh and blood, but spiritual powers working against us – see Ephesians 6:12). “Now all glory to God, who is able, through His mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think.” (Ephesians 3:20, NLT, emphasis added)

Whose Work?

All these blessings are conditional on following, trusting and obeying God – Father, Son and Spirit. Sometimes that makes me nervous; sometimes it makes me proud: depending on how successfully I perceive I am currently following, trusting, and obeying. But when I’m honest I know that I only follow God in His power anyways. The credit is never mine, and the pressure is never on me. Christ took the pressure and gave me His victory as a gift. I will never engage with Him perfectly, which turns out to be a blessing because it keeps me humble.

There is a tantalizing picture painted by two great battlefield examples of God doing the work for His people: the famous battle of Jericho, and King Jehoshaphat’s remarkable encounter with the surrounding nations who came to war against him. When I read these stories (Joshua 6 and 2 Chronicles 20), in my mind’s eye I replace the heathen armies with my current enemies – whether it be my own thoughts, difficulties in marriage or parenting, or overwhelming situations or circumstances. (This can be rote or formulaic, so don’t do it if it’s not meaningful to you. It’s only worthwhile if it grows your friendship with God.)

As the Israelites came to Jericho, the first thing God said to Joshua was, “I have given you Jericho, its king, and all its strong warriors” (Joshua 6:2b, NLT). Then God proceeded to tell Joshua how to battle the city with marching and shouting and the Ark of the Lord’s Covenant, and as you know, the walls fell down on the seventh day in a resounding victory. When we let God be God and we obey Him, He acts on our behalf. He does the work. He provides.

In Jehoshaphat’s story, he is informed by messengers that “a vast army” is approaching. He “was terrified by this news and begged the Lord for guidance” (2 Chronicles 20:3), as well as enlisting the prayers of everyone in Judah. Then he goes to the temple and prays a brave and vulnerable prayer, entreating God to care for them, and ending with these words: “O our God, won’t you stop them? We are powerless against this mighty army that is about to attack us. We do not know what to do, but we are looking to you for help.” (2 Chronicles 20:12, NLT)

In response, God’s Spirit comes upon Jahaziel with a message of deliverance: “‘Listen, all you people of Judah and Jerusalem! Listen, King Jehoshaphat! This is what the Lord says: Do not be afraid! Don’t be discouraged by this mighty army, for the battle is not yours, but God’s… you will not even need to fight. Take your positions; then stand still and watch the Lord’s victory. He is with you, O people of Judah and Jerusalem. Do not be afraid or discouraged. Go out against them tomorrow, for the Lord is with you!'” (2 Chronicles 20:15-17, emphasis added). After this the whole community of people bows to worship, stands to praise, and shouts loudly. Then as the army goes out the next morning, they decide to have singers praising God in front of the army, and “at the very moment they began to sing and give praise, the Lord caused the armies of Ammon, Moab, and Mount Seir to start fighting among themselves” (verse 22). Long story short, those nations coming against Judah all killed each other and Jehoshaphat and his people took the spoil. 

This story is rich with testimony to strengthen us and remind us who God is. What I want to draw from it today – and from the story of Jericho – is that God is victorious for us when we obey. I believe victory follows obedience. I hope with my whole being that victory is real for every Christian. I hope we do not settle. I hope we let the the love of God soak deep into our bones so that we may trust Him. And I hope as we trust and follow Him that our hearts are quickened to obedience; that we do the weird things He asks us to do; that we let Him be everything: our source of life and faith, our Savior, our Lord, our victorious Warrior, and the Hero of our story.

Life

Obedience is a humble path. It happens in the ordinary moments every day. It is an often-quiet, faithful turning. It is letting God do it His way instead of my way.

May I say again that God has great things for us? More than we can imagine, sometimes more than we want, always more than we deserve. Obedience is like a fence along the pathway of life. Only it’s rather like an optional fence. No one is requiring us to obey. But when we do, it keeps us within the life God has for us: we begin to become truly alive for the first time, for real.  

Obedience, Part Unknown

2 Replies

It’s time to get personal with all the talk about obedience. If you didn’t know, I’m writing a series of five posts on obedience:
Obedience, Part 1 – Turning
Obedience, Part 2 – Agreeing or Trusting?
Obedience, Part 3 – What Precedes Obedience
Obedience, Part 4 – What Follows Obedience
Obedience, Part 5 – Disobedience

“Obedience, Part Unknown” was not going to be in the series, but I’m struggling today and it’s time to share the struggle. But first, how the difficulty began; which is actually a story I love to tell.

A couple months ago I was feeling inadequate and overwhelmed in parenting, which is not at all unusual for me. However, this time things were at the point I felt something needed to be done. My seven year old daughter was saying she felt like the worst person in the world, that she hated herself, and that she wished she were dead. Fear and worry swooped in to tell me it was my fault for being a perfectionist, and that not having the right solution would result in lifelong negative consequences.

As my mind began to spin up a tornado and my soul began to clench in fear, the Holy Spirit threw me a rope. He reminded me that I didn’t have to descend into despair, and He also informed me that I was not strong enough on my own to fight that battle. He instructed me to reach out to my friends for prayer, and so by God’s grace and praying friends I made the journey over the next 24 hours from “this is big and I can’t solve it and that’s bad” to “God loves my daughter even more than I do and He knows exactly what she needs.” In my heart I sensed that God was asking me to wait on Him. It was not time to act, it was time to trust, and then from the quiet of trust, to listen. This was all His work, not mine. I simply responded.

Within a day or two of this, my husband and I had our weekly “M&P,” which is a time we spend after the kids are in bed talking about either our marriage or parenting. We prayed and I shared my concern about our daughter, and then we had the most wonderful conversation about our lives being too full. There is absolutely no explanation for it being wonderful except that God showed up. Generally, conversations about how we spend our time have been anything but wonderful. Weekends have been the crucible of our marriage because unplanned time sends us in opposite directions: my husband to relaxing and entertainment, and me to chores and activities. But throughout this conversation we expressed ourselves well, we heard each other well, and we reached the same conclusion: our life is too full and God is calling us to slow down.

Typically my response to any sort of conclusion is to take action. Time to buy a car? Ok, let’s go get one tomorrow. Time to plan a birthday party? I’ll start the guest and supply lists right now. But I experienced this calling from God as if a divine Parent was truly in charge. I didn’t feel the need to make it happen. My husband and I both agreed that we were to slow down our lives, but we didn’t know how. We even agreed that if we were to sit down with the intent to discuss our schedule, two things could happen: 1) no individual item would ever make the cut, because each one had been chosen for a good reason in the first place (how could we cancel date night, dinner with friends, or art lessons for the kids?), and 2) if we did actually find something to cut, our lists would be opposite: what he wanted to cut would be what I wanted to keep, and vice versa.

So here we sat, unexpectedly in peace and agreement, waiting for God to reveal what He had in mind for us. Some weeks later as I was in the kitchen getting a glass of water, the thought came to me that we could decide on our schedule based on what we know God has called us to. In other words, those things in our life we know He has directed us to do would remain, and everything else would get cut. I tucked that thought away for later, and through unanticipated circumstances we found ourselves at home alone on a Saturday morning for two hours. I suggested we talk more about God’s plan for our time, and my husband reservedly agreed. Again we experienced the same oneness of mind as our previous conversation, and we felt God was asking us to lay aside those things that He had not called us to do. (Our focus was the time between school and bedtime, so we were not talking about changes to my husband’s work schedule, or to time commitments in the first part of the day).

As we conversed over the next couple of weeks, we identified three things we knew God had clearly called us to, and we decided it was time to tell the kids our plan and start eliminating everything else from our evening schedule. Previous to these changes, we were out of the house five nights a week on average. And this was after saying no to quite a few opportunities. We communicated with our extended family – who are our primary babysitters – that we would be making changes, and were blessed to have their support. We started to get excited about more evenings at home as a family, and maybe the option to invite people for dinner occasionally – something we had not been able to do for some time. Our focus was on keeping things off the calendar, so dinner invitations would be more spontaneous – not planned weeks ahead.

So, that’s the story. We basically started following this new calling at the beginning of January, which felt very fitting. Here we are a few weeks in, and it’s getting hard. At first it was a relief, even a joy, to look at the empty calendar, knowing that we were right where God wanted us to be, and that we didn’t have to always be going here and there. Then the social invitations started coming in. Last weekend we had three social invitations on Saturday evening. My stress level went up as we tried to decide which was the most important, whether we should do any at all, how late we could respond to the invitations without being thoughtless toward the hosts, and so on. I was texting people, feeling torn and overwhelmed. Part of me wanted to go ahead and respond with Yes to two of the invitations, as they would fit together nicely. Part of me thought we should pick one. Part of me wanted to say no to all of them. And this uncertainty was a huge energy drain. I was stressed, wanting to keep each of my family members happy and also (to be completely honest) keep up good impressions with the friends who had invited us. We ended up choosing one event, which kept us up late, and in the end I felt overextended and emotionally exhausted (more from the decision making than the event, which seems ridiculous).

So how do I navigate this? We’re not trying to completely eliminate our social life, but we are trying to slow it down. And although I am absolutely certain of God’s calling to a quieter schedule, I am not as sure how to make the individual decisions. We’ve been reading a new book by Jefferson Bethke titled “To Hell with the Hustle: Reclaiming Your Life in an Overworked, Overspent and Overconnected World.” It explores the ways life has changed in the last two hundred years with cars, electric lights, worldwide time zones, and all the things that enable us to have the very full lives we have today. It has been eyeopening, and an encouraging read as it echoes the heart calling God has given us for this season.

And yet I still don’t know what I’m doing. Today school was cancelled because of snow. I decided to have a fun day with my girls, and we each picked something to do: bake cookies, make cereal necklaces, and dance along with kid song videos. I also took my first-grader on a mommy-daughter date because she has been asking for some time alone with me. Then I started getting social invitations. Four, to be exact, all before 1:00 (and there may still be more to come?). And I like them all. What’s not to love about sledding and lunch and playdates? Each time I agonize. The kids would love to do it. It would be good to get out of the house. But here’s the real kicker. I realized as I responded No to each one that there may be a cost to this obedience. Friendships only last when you invest in them. If we are going to be centered at home, we are essentially tightening our circle, and some relationships may be lost. If I am investing more time at home, the obvious flip side is that I’m investing less time outside the home. How can I say no to the meal trains, the mom nights, the potlucks and sledding invitations, the dinner invitations, the birthday parties, the playdates at the park?

And then I pause for a moment right in the middle of this thought and realize how blessed I am! What an incredibly warm and wonderful place to be – surrounded by friends I admire and cherish, who regularly invite me into their activities and their homes. I have a story for another day about hungering for friendship, and by God’s grace here I am drowning in it.

But back to my original thought. What to do? I must say no. I am called to say no. As Bethke says in the aforementioned book, “If you’re not saying no to good things, you’re probably not saying no enough.” This is uncomfortable. But despite the discomfort I can be grateful, because all is good. The calling to slowness is good. The friendships are good. There is nothing bad here, but there is a calling. There is a culling. There is a cost. In all of it I am blessed. I am blessed to have a loving Father who cares enough to orchestrate the details of my life. I am blessed to be surrounded by a loving community of friends and family. I am also blessed to discover the freedom that comes with the word No. 

Is it painful? Yes. Is it also peaceful? Yes. Is there a cost? Yes. Do I know what the cost will be? No. Am I called to obedience? Yes. Can I be obedient on my own? No. It is all the work of God, from start to finish. In his book Mere Christianity C. S. Lewis points out that “Christ Himself sometimes describes the Christian way as very hard, sometimes as very easy. He says, ‘Take up your Cross” – in other words, it is like going to be beaten to death in a concentration camp. Next minute he says, ‘My yoke is easy and my burden light.’ He means both.” So here I am, feeling peaceful and blessed, and simultaneously uncomfortable and sad. God is asking me to do something hard, but the truth is that He does all the hard  stuff. I just turn toward Him in obedience.

Today the photo for my post is a picture of my husband and me with our older daughter when she was about a week old. The first time I looked at this picture, God impressed an image on my mind that still comes to me every time I see it. In the picture you can see our daughter, with my arm around her, and my husband’s arms around both of us. In my mind’s eye God showed me His arms as another Person around all of us. Here we are seven years later, facing new challenges, but we are still held. And being held is worth fighting for. It’s worth obedience, even knowing it comes with discomfort and loss and the unknown.

Obedience, Part 3 – What Precedes Obedience

3 Replies

Are there certain experiences that precede obedience to God? Certain conditions under which obedience flourishes? I am certain there are more thorough answers to these questions than what I have to share here. My simple offering comes from my own experience, and I am a feeble beginner in regards to obedience. Yet I feel an inkling of freedom, and freedom is always worth sharing. Perhaps obedience begins with Love, Lordship, and Listening.

Love

The Bible says that God strengthens us “through his Spirit. Then Christ will make his home in your hearts as you trust in him. Your roots will grow down into God’s love and keep you strong. And may you have the power to understand, as all God’s people should, how wide, how long, how high, and how deep his love is. May you experience the love of Christ, though it is too great to understand fully. Then you will be made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God.” (Ephesians 3:16b-19 NLT)

Do you see the progression here? First God gives us His Spirit to strengthen us on the inside. Then as we trust Him (more on trust here), He comes to be at home in our hearts. Then we grow deep roots into His love, and we begin to understand and experience the vastness of His love, even though it is beyond understanding. And finally, we are “made complete with all the fullness of life and power that comes from God.”

As I read and reread this, I have become aware that I had things backwards (again!). Knowing I am loved is what changes me. I used to think it was more magical, like God reaching down to touch me and turn me into a walking exhibition of the fruit of the Spirit. I thought it was about doing right things. But being a Christian is actually about being loved. Being loved is intimate, internal, and personal. As C.S. Lewis says in Mere Christianity, “…the Christian is in a different position from other people who are trying to be good. They hope, by being good, to please God if there is one… But the Christian thinks any good he does comes from the Christ-life inside him. He does not think God will love us because we are good, but that God will make us good because He loves us…”

If someone you don’t know asks you to do something, you might take into consideration things like whether they have power, whether you are likely to interact with them again in the future, and how much what they are asking you to do will cost or inconvenience you. If someone you know asks you do something, you may take those same things into consideration, but you also act out of the temperature of the relationship. You might be predisposed not to obey, or predisposed to obey, depending on the experiences you have had with this person. Think about the possibility that Someone who has loved you since before you were born, served you by taking responsibility for your wrong actions, and loves you no matter what you do, is asking you to do something. How likely would you be to respond? God’s love is the first prerequisite to obedience. We would be fools to obey Him otherwise.

Henry and Richard Blackaby and Claude King wrote an excellent workbook, Experiencing God, which carefully explores listening and responding to God. It encourages us to get to know God before we start trying to do things for Him: “I think God is crying out to us, ‘Don’t just do something. Stand there! Enter a love relationship with Me. Get to know Me.'”

Our experiences with God in the past prepare us for obedience in the present. Maybe when we’re struggling with obedience to God, we can give ourselves permission to stop trying to be good and stop stressing about obeying. Maybe it’s time to think on His love and grace, and let Him worry about the rest. God is eager to provide for us. He is inviting us to rest in His provision. And as we do so, this glorious safety and love and cherishing frees us to follow Him and turn toward Him in obedience.

Lordship

Acknowledging Jesus as Lord is a recognition of His power in our lives. Power that He received by submitting Himself to God in obedience to the point of death. His gift to us is His power in our lives to do in and through us what we are unable to do for ourselves – to be healed by His love and empowered by His grace. Jesus as Lord is not more expectations and demands on our performance. It is an offering of His performance over ours.

When we acknowledge His Lordship, obedience follows. Jesus said, “So why do you keep calling me ‘Lord, Lord!’ when you don’t do what I say?” (Luke 6:46, NLT). We ought not to waste our breath saying He is Lord if we don’t really believe it. And if we do believe it, our response will be obedience. We will stand in awe of His gift and eagerly place ourselves in submission to His awesome power in our lives. As big as this sounds, it happens little by little. We don’t surrender everything in one moment. He opens our eyes slowly to His Lordship, and slowly we respond to His revelations with obedience.

Listening

If we agree on the Love and Lordship of Jesus Christ, then what? He may be powerful and loving, but how do I know what He wants me to do? By definition, obedience requires that a person is being asked to do something (or not do something). So what is God asking us to do? Using the analogy of a parent-child relationship, I see two possible sources of direction from God:

First, there are household rules. These are established rules – you know what they are and frequently make decisions to follow or not follow these rules. In regards to God, household rules may include the Ten Commandments and Jesus’ summary of the law: “‘You must love the Lord your God with all your heart, all your soul, and all your mind.’ This is the first and greatest commandment. A second is equally important: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’” (Matthew 22:37-39, NLT) Quickly we realize we are unable to do any of this without the love and lordship of Jesus. His obedience is our obedience, because only He in us is able to live a life of love.

Second, there are things God asks you personally to do. These are things He is not asking every other human being to do. Just as a parent will ask a specific child to do or not doing something, so God speaks to us with specificity. I believe this is something God does with every one of His children. As Christians we are not following rules, we are following Jesus. And Jesus is always up to something. He is at work in the world around us. To quote Experiencing God again, “God never asks people to dream up something to do for Him. We do not sit down and dream what we want to do for God and then call God in to help us accomplish it. The pattern in Scripture is that we submit ourselves to God. Then we wait until God shows us what He is about to do, or we watch to see what God is already doing around us and join Him.”

If you’ve read much of my blog, you probably know waiting is not my strong suit. I would much rather come up with something good to do myself than to join what God is doing. Whatever He is doing probably requires things I’m not able to give. But that brings us right back around to love. Because He loves us, He offers us His lordship and grace, which is His power in us to accomplish His purposes. He doesn’t need me to be able to do it. Obedience opens up a world of possibilities. Remember the passage I quoted from Ephesians? This is how it ends: “Now all glory to God, who is able, through his mighty power at work within us, to accomplish infinitely more than we might ask or think. Glory to him in the church and in Christ Jesus through all generations forever and ever! Amen.” (Ephesians 3:20, 21 NLT, italics added)

Listening also involves paying attention. God says to the Israelites, “Follow my decrees and be careful to obey my laws…” (Leviticus 25:18,19 NIV). Following and being careful require paying attention. When we follow another car in traffic or try to stay with a toddler in the department store, we keep our eyes on them. The Cambridge Dictionary online describes “careful” in part as “giving attention to something.” Obeying God involves first giving Him our attention.

Sometimes I worry about how to know what God wants me to do. In reality, I could never in my feeble human state commune with Almighty God, and certainly not aspire to obey Him with my own resources. How could I in my broken state even begin to behave in the loving manner in which God calls me to behave? This is oddly comforting, because when I see clearly that I could never obey God on my own, it becomes obvious that He is able to accomplish His purposes – including communicating with me what He has for me to do – and my part is only to trust Him and turn toward Him saying “Yes, Lord.”

God Is Offering

I have discovered that when God asks me to obey, He is actually offering to do something for me, in me, or through me. My obedience is only a channel through which He can do mighty things. He doesn’t expect me to be able to do a whole lot. But He intends to do a whole lot with me as I immerse myself in His love and turn toward Him with obedience. He is not asking me to do something, so much as He is asking me to let Him do something.

In the book of Exodus, after God frees his people from Egyptian slavery, He makes a covenant with them, consisting primarily of instructions and promises. After Moses read the covenant to the people, “They responded, ‘We will do everything the Lord has said; we will obey.'” In the next post on obedience, we’ll look at some of the blessings God promised would follow obedience. 

Letting God Provide

Leave a reply

[from my prayer journal]

August 12, 2019

God says, “Let me be your provider. ‘My grace is sufficient for you, for my strength is made perfect in weakness’ (2 Cor. 12:9). You don’t need your kids and husband and other people around you to keep you happy, or your performance to be your reward. Bring everything to me. Let me be your provider. Be still. Wait on me. Give thanks. Hold fast. Find contentment in watching me provide.”

November 12, 2019

This morning I am feeling my brokenness in parenting. The sorrow of all the moments of connection lost to worry and fear. I asked God what to do and He sent me a bird. A tiny bird to flit about in the leafless tree outside my window. And He reminded me not to worry because He cares for the sparrows and He cares for me. I am not able to parent my children the way He would have me parent them. I am not even to try. I may trust His provision. I may find contentment in watching Him provide.

“Therefore I tell you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or drink; or about your body, what you will wear. Is not life more than food, and the body more than clothes? Look at the birds of the air; they do not sow or reap or store away in barns, and yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not much more valuable than they?” (Matthew 6:25,26 NIV)

November 13, 2019

“I have resurrection power, living on the the inside Jesus, You have given us freedom” (Chris Tomlin, “Resurrection Power”). This morning I write these words with a sense of belonging rather than a sense of longing. Yesterday I spent the afternoon having fun with my daughters. And I actually had fun. And I didn’t even think of my to-do list. That is resurrection power.

November 25, 2019

When I woke up this morning I realized I’m not miserable any more. I was thinking about yesterday and today – my husband being sick, my e-book with an hour left before it expires and no time to listen, the kids being on school vacation, not knowing how best to spend my time, Christmas crochet projects not getting done, grocery shopping, meal preparations, a messy house, parenting my girls today – and none of it felt like a burden.

It has been about four years since I realized I was miserable. Since I got honest about the reality that I had a perfect life and I hated it. I just wanted to escape. Was part of this seasonal? Probably. I had a one year old and a three year old at that time. But the greater part of this change is the holy and beautiful, precious and long desired, oh-so-beautiful and tasty, fruit of seeking God. Or responding to Him seeking me. To be honest, it’s still somewhat of a mystery. But this morning I cry tears of happiness and contentment and relief at the realization I am not miserable. In some sense I am surprised. In the deepest sense I am loved, and I have finally begun to let it soak in.

“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn from me, for I am gentle and humble in heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy and my burden is light.” (Matthew 11:28-30 NIV)

Obedience, Part 2 – Agreeing or Trusting?

3 Replies

If obedience is a turning toward God (I explored this idea in Obedience, Part 1), then how do I decide when to turn toward Him? Do I need to understand and agree in order to obey? I will be arguing in this post that agreement and understanding do not precede obedience. But before exploring that further, let’s agree that it is important to understand who God is, and agree with His kingdom principles before we trust and follow Him. He is not asking us to choose Him blindly. But once we do choose Him, and we learn to trust Him (which, by the way, happens over time, not magically all at once), we will miss the glory of being His if we obey only when we agree and understand. I also want to note before I begin that the ideas presented under “Why Obedience” come primarily from a presentation by Bob Folkenberg, which may be viewed in full here: https://vimeo.com/32471840

Why Obedience?

Think about what happens in a parent-child relationship when a child wants to know “why?” Suppose I ask my daughter Kayt to wash the dinner table. At this point she can obey or disobey, based only on the fact that I am her mother and I have asked her to do something. But suppose she asks why, and I explain, “we’re going to do a craft and I don’t want crumbs and sticky food to get on our craft.” Now she can think about that and decide whether she also doesn’t want crumbs and sticky stuff on her craft. Or whether she will do it because she wants to keep me happy by doing what’s important to me. Or perhaps she’ll decide not to do it, because she doesn’t think what I said makes any sense. The point is, now that I have given her my reason, she will use her own judgement to decide whether to obey me. Folkenberg says, “Therefore they are not doing what you asked them to do. They are doing what they have decided is appropriate to do. They are worshipping their own opinions, which are higher than yours.” Since I have given my reason, my daughter is now making a decision based on her own authority and judgement, not mine.

Understanding is a good prerequisite for decision making, but not for obedience. In most of our relationships obedience makes no sense. Ought we to do whatever our boss says without thinking about it? I should think not. What about our friends, coworkers, small group leaders, pastors? Certainly not. But in our relationship with God, as well as in the parent-child relationship, it does make sense to obey without understanding, without making our own judgement about the situation. What child would cheerfully put herself to bed at 8pm every night because you explained the importance of sleep? What child would eagerly hand over his toys whenever friends came to play because you explained the importance of caring about others? Children must obey their parents without understanding or agreeing, because their life and wellbeing depends on it. They would die if left to their own understanding. And so will we.

Consider Lucifer’s sin. “For you have said in your heart: ‘I will ascend into heaven, I will exalt my throne above the stars of God…’” (Isaiah 14:13a NKJV). His sin was in his thoughts, his heart, and it was a conflict of authority. Folkenberg puts it this way: Lucifer says “You have the authority to make all the rules you want to, but I get to decide which ones I’m going to follow…. And that means I’m a god like You’re a God. I’ve got the same authority ‘cause I crowned myself an alternate God.”

Consider Adam and Eve in the Garden of Eden. Lucifer shows up and crowns himself as another god – able to make judgements about God – in the sight of Adam and Eve by contradicting God: “you won’t die.” Then he offers Eve the opportunity to become a god too: “your eyes will be opened, and you will be like God, knowing good and evil” (Genesis 3:4b NKJV). She accepted his invitation and used her own reasoning to consider what God had said about the tree, consider what she herself could see and understand about the tree, and make a decision. “So when the woman saw that the tree was good for food, that it was pleasant to the eyes, and a tree desirable to make one wise, she took of its fruit and ate” (Genesis 3:6a NKJV). She placed her own judgement above God’s judgement. She crowned herself another god. Folkenberg says there is only one sin: “Yes God, I know what you said, but it seems to me…”

Both Lucifer and Eve rejected God’s sovereignty and His love. Folkenberg argues that God’s love/acceptance and His sovereignty/authority are two sides of the same coin, and that you cannot have one without the other. “Sin [as defined above] is the rebellion that is made evident in the deed that rejects God’s sovereign authority and love beyond description. You cannot reject His authority without rejecting His love. You cannot separate His sovereign love that is the basis for His means of salvation without also rejecting His authority. And we most commonly reject His sovereignty, His lordship. But we can’t have one without the other… The Lord says, ‘You cannot be anything like me unless you let me change your likes and dislikes and your wants and your desires. I’m the one. Let me in; I’ll help you.'” This is Lordship in a nutshell:
Me: I’m trying so hard.
God: Stop trying, I’ve got it covered.

If you’re agreeing with God, the weight is on you. You have to make the right decision. If you’re trusting God, the weight is on Him. As my friend Nic always says, “Are you trusting God, or trusting yourself?”

Let’s be clear that prioritizing obedience does not somehow place salvation in our hands. We are not saved by obedience. We’re saved by grace, and by the process of responding to that grace in the only way that we can – falling in love with Jesus. In fact, Folkenberg goes on to say that if we obey God because we agree with Him, we’re not actually obeying Him, we’re obeying ourselves. Our actions that appear to be obedience may actually be sin if they are done out of agreement (we have now placed ourselves in judgement over God) and not trust.

So if we’re not saved by obedience, but by grace, why does God ask us to obey Him? 1 John 2:3 says, “Now by this we know that we know Him, if we keep His commandments.” By this WE know. Folkenberg says, “my obedience is not designed to impress God… or to impress somebody else (it’s none of their business)… it is there for me, as an honesty check on who I am. [When we put on a good act] we deceive everybody else and deceive ourselves. Folks, we’re not as good as we think we are and we’re certainly not as good as anybody else thinks we are. The Lord says… ‘I’ve designed the plan of salvation so that you have to confront who you are. You’re saved by grace… but I’m helping you realize that you’ve got a struggle, and your struggle is to set your opinions aside and simply say, “Lord make me what you want [me] to be.”‘ Don’t be impressed by yourself. Face the reality of yourself.”

My Experience

Obedience is like a trust thermometer. Nearly four years ago I realized I didn’t trust God one bit. The idea of waking up in the morning and saying, “Lord, you are God, do as you see fit today,” was absolutely terrifying and practically revolting to me. I didn’t want what God wanted. I wanted what I wanted, and if He wanted to help with it, that would be lovely. Of course He didn’t, so things got a little awkward there for a while. After years of honest conversation, humbly seeking to fall in love with Jesus, and facing the reality of my deep brokenness, most mornings I am now relieved to leave everything in God’s hands. Have I mastered trust? Heavens, no! By God’s grace I have taken one tiny step toward fully trusting Him. There is always another layer, a deeper experience. God is never done. As I learn to trust Him in one place, He stretches me in another. 

Walking with God is comforting, but right on the edge of unnerving. It’s not a gradient where I move from unnerved to comforted. Rather, they are stacked right against each other. The second I forget how much God loves me, I move from peace to stress. Which of course makes sense, because God’s kingdom is ridiculous and impossible for me, and thinking about it causes fear and anxiety when I am trying to follow Him by making the right decisions myself. But knowing and trusting God – and letting Him make the decisions – changes everything. There is great peace and comfort in His presence.

It’s kind of like being naked or being clothed. Imagine trying to go through a typical day naked. When I’m naked I can’t take on anything because all I can think about is needing to be dressed. But when I am clothed, those thoughts disappear completely and I am ready to tackle the day. Walking with God, rooted in His love, is like being dressed. When I start to wonder if He’s really got it covered, it’s like my underwear are showing. If I keep going that way, pretty soon my buttons fall off and I might as well be naked because it’s all I can think about. But if I pull my clothes back into place – if I remember God’s love for me – I return to the safety of being covered. Am I always naked underneath the clothes? Yes. Will I always be naked underneath God’s love and provision? Yes. But will the knowledge of that nakedness be practically nonexistent in my mind as I enjoy His clothing? I believe yes.

If we only obey God when we agree with Him, we will be forever running around naked. When we trust Him, and our obedience comes from a place of love and safety, we will always be clothed. We can honestly bring our deepest hurts and our greatest confusions to Him and know that there is comfort in His saving grace and His powerful lordship.

If you don’t feel peace and comfort in God’s presence, and you don’t want to trust Him, don’t despair. Your shortcoming are never ever so great that He can’t reach right through them and save you. Get really honest. Tell Him how you really feel. Put forth the tiny seed of faith you have, even if you’re embarrassed how small it is. For me, I couldn’t say I trusted Him, or even that I wanted to trust Him, but I could say that I wanted to want to trust Him. And that’s where I started.

Give and Receive

Leave a reply

I am guarded with God. As much as I don’t want to admit it, it becomes painfully clear in those moments when I try to trust Him and end up exploding in anger. I’m still not sure He’s safe. Perhaps I am in a lifetime of recovery. Just as alcoholics are forever recovering, perhaps so are sinners.

I keep thinking God is expecting something from me – a life of service perhaps – and He keeps saying, “Let Me provide.” Why am I so convinced He wants to take, when all He has done is give? (And how presumptuous to think that I have anything of objective value to offer the God who made me.)

Always He is present. Always He is safe. Always He wants to be with me and love me, even though it makes no sense. “He who did not spare His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not also with Him freely give us all things?” (Romans 8:32)

Perhaps this giving is an invitation to me to receive. Receiving is different than taking. God is not a shelf from which I can select whatever I need and take it. He is a lover, pursuing me with gifts – blessings – and each time I receive I am entering into intimate relationship with Him. God bless this holy mystery.