No Time Like the Present

Last night, while talking with my Pastor, I mentioned an issue I'd been dealing with that I was beginning to believe had spiritual consequences. She offered to pray with me. When I left her home, I was bombarded with thoughts like, "Why did you say all of that? She's going to think you're crazy, lazy, and whiny. Why don't you just grow up and let it go already!" Ironically, that I sometimes have such thoughts was precisely what I'd just received prayer for. So I thought, "Great, here we go. Can't I just have a moment of peace?!" Then I realized that the moment was an opportunity to let God show me how to deal. He was answering my prayer to boot! So I embraced the moment, and as I began to pray that I might "take every thought captive" (2 Cor. 10:5), the anxiousness began to fade.

We often think (or at least hope) that God heals instantly. Be it physical healing, spiritual healing, deliverance, and all the rest, the moment we pray is the moment we want results. Sometimes God works things out that way. Often times, however, he doesn't. In the Bible, we see miracles happen on almost every page. But the Bible spans thousands of years. In Acts we see the wonders and works of the Apostles of the new Church, but we forget that Acts covers decades. So, why the delay? Well, there are probably several reasons, most of which I won't get into here. But I do want to focus on one that I have found to be true and one you've probably heard before: the real progress is in the process.

God is probably not as concerned with making us feel better as he is concerned with helping us to grow, know him better, know more about his love for us. God could have instantaneously delivered me from anxious thoughts. But wouldn't it be better if I learned to go straight to God when I have such thoughts? Wouldn't it be more useful to me, and wouldn't it help bring me closer to God, if I learned how to win the battles in my mind and heart by finding refuge in God and his Word? I believe so.

I thanked God for loving me enough to walk me through this, and for giving me the opportunity--without a moment to waste--to draw closer to him. And being close to him, learning to trust him, and knowing more of his love offer much more than just the chance to feel better.

Crossroads

Recently a comedy TV show depicted a scene where a guy walked into his boss' office. He didn't speak. Instead, he pointed one foot in front of the other and dragged his toes across the ground in front of him. His boss asked him what he was doing. He responded, "I like to draw my lines before I cross them." I thought it was quite clever. Now I think it was quite insightful.

It is sometimes hard to see how our actions, even small apparently benign actions, have bigger implications for our lives. I wrote a blog entry on a similar topic (see faithisavirtue.org). Yet, we should know that each action does imply some consequence. There are very few absolutely neutral actions in life. Some of life's bigger decisions make it easier to spot when we've "crossed the line." But even when the line isn't so clear, I've had to learn to ask myself, "if I had to draw a line here, where would it go?" Sometimes I've already crossed it, e.g. when I didn't reign in that thought I had weeks ago that dominoed into the choice I'm facing today. Sometimes I find that I am right on the edge, and I've still got time to turn back.

Now we know that when God is in the picture, there is always an opportunity to choose differently, to turn things around. But the key here is that WE have to do the choosing. We have to decide whether we will step over the line, or not. God is happy to show us where the line is, just in case we are confused. And when he knows that we won't see it for ourselves, he is kind enough to send someone our way whose vision is clearer and will point out the line to us. Even still, we wind up at a crossroads: to cross or not to cross, our choice.

The crossroads we face in life can lead to good places. In the law, there are so-called "threshold" issues. That is, before a court will look at B, the party making its case must first show A to a sufficient degree. I think that there are spiritual thresholds as well. We face pivot points in life. God gives us the direction, and only when we follow do we find that we've opened the door to something wonderful, something God had waiting for us just on the other side. Of course if we choose not to open the door, God will not rub our face in it. But he will be grieved by our loss, a loss he didn't intend us to have: a loss of joy, peace, or other blessing that would have only enriched our lives.

I believe I opened such a door recently. It was a tough, painful journey (most of which I could have avoided had I been paying better attention). But now that I'm here, I can't wait to see what is on the other side!

Deep Water Faith in the Shallow End

Those aren't my words. I lifted them from a contemporary Christian song. But they make the point I want to discuss here.

I used to be fearless for God (relatively speaking, of course). When I first became a Christian, I was so in love with God that I took my Bible to class to sneak in a few few moments of reading during lectures. I was like a sponge: I wanted to soak up every bit of anything that had something to do with God. I read; I talked; I evangelized; I prayed. I asked God to make something useful out of me. I believed that God only asked for willing hearts and bodies, and that he would do the rest. I moved to St. Louis to volunteer for a Christian outreach organization. I had no friends or family in the area; I had no job lined up; and I rented a room in an apartment sight-unseen (those who know me understand how huge this would be for me). I charged ahead and didn't look back. I was on a mission for God, all else be damned.

It's not so easy for me now. I question and second-guess everything. I worry almost constantly. I fear more. I trust less. What happened? No doubt my life has come a long way since the emotional nirvana of the early days of my walk with God. Indeed, I have more to do, more to think about, more to be praying for. But I also know more about God. I know more about life. Shouldn't I have an easier time getting through the tougher spots?

I think it comes down to this: when I was a new believer, God held my hand. He protected me and loved me so that I would know the difference between my life without him and my new life. But he knew that he could not shield me forever, not completely shield me, that is. What use would I be if he didn't let me learn anything new after I got to know him? Sure, I'd be in love with God. But I'd be a fool in love. So I'll take the tougher times knowing that it's God's way of ushering me out of my foolishness and into his peace, wisdom, and love.

Moreover, God isn't making me feel scared, worried, or otherwise discontent. I have those responses because somewhere between "discovering" Christ and growing in him, I put myself back in charge. And every time I rely on myself, I'm disappointed. This isn't a pity party. It's a reality check. If I could work it all out, I wouldn't have needed God in the first place. How many times do I have to remind myself of this? Perhaps daily. Then daily it will be.

"Crouching God, Hidden Jesus"

Who's afraid of the big, bad wolf? I am; that is, if the wolf you refer to is God. For so long in my Christian walk, I've viewed God as the wolf, tiger, lion, whatever, in the sky. He crouches, waiting for his chance to pounce. Much of what I've done, or not done, out of self-proclaimed obedience, has been more out of fear, a fear that if I don't do what's right, God will get me! But I had it all wrong.

I've been struggling with some things lately--I add the "lately" only to underscore that I refer to my most recent issue, not to imply that I don't usually struggle with things because, indeed, I do. I'd been afraid to take the issue to God in prayer because I thought he was unhappy with me over the whole situation. I thought he was just waiting for me to ask him about it so he could put me face-to-face with my sin and disobedience. I thought that something I very much enjoyed was going to be taken from me, almost simply because I was enjoying it too much.

But last night as I was getting ready for bed, I began to pray. I realized how long it had been since I had a real conversation with God. So I stopped and just spent a few minutes reflecting on that. This was one of those rare moments where it seemed as if God actually initiated the conversation, like he just got my attention and walked me through my thoughts; so I tuned in. I realized that I had been avoiding God, avoiding having to surrender this issue to him. (Oh, and I'm being vague about "the issue" because it's really irrelevant to the point I'm making here; it would take too long to explain and would be more of a distraction than anything.)

My thought was, "I don't want to pray about this; I don't want to surrender it because I know what will happen next." Immediately after, another thought came to mind, "what if God isn't trying to take anything from you; what if he just wants you to pray about it because he wants to be involved, to help you along?" What a sobering thought! In that moment I did come face-to-face with sin, but my sin was in pretending that I could read God's mind and being deliberately disobedient. I had not stumbled by holding onto something he told me to let go of, but by leaving him out of it altogether. I had another series of thoughts afterward that were just such a blessing to me. (I might share those later.) But here's the main point:

Don't be afraid to keep God in the loop. First, you can't hide anything from him anyway. So you just wind up feeling guilty and looking foolish. Second, God is not "the big, bad wolf." He's not waiting for you to stumble so he can pounce. He wants to help you; he will help you; he will love you. And there is nothing scary about that!