It's easy to think that living in constant friendship with God means having it all together and always jumping up and down at His will.
Honestly, it doesn't.
I've always said I wanted His will. And I've meant it. But far too often when it's my will against His, I've argued with Him and tried to convince Him that my idea isn't so bad after all. And almost always, He let's me make my own decision without much of a battle, and I've marched off, unaware that I've done it again.
Sometimes arguing with God can become such a habit that we don't even know that we are doing it. We simply think we are looking at the situation and reasoning logically.
You know how it goes. His quiet voices tells us not to send that text or blurt out those words, or whatever it is. We don't always even realize it's Him and we respond with our list of reasons why it's ok.
"Oh they'll understand what I mean. It's about time I say what I really think. And there's nothin wrong with it anyway."
Sometimes He responds with His own reasons. Other times He goes quiet and we run headlong into our own plans, hardly even realizing He had whispered cautions.
I think we are so used to thinking life is full of decisions we have to make and sometimes we consult Him, but in the end, it's up to making the most logical decision.
And it is. But whose logic?
What if the only decisions we really have to make are whether or not we are willing to listen to Him and do whatever He says? What if it's not about deciding who we want to be, who our friends will be, who we will marry, and what our career will be, but simply saying yes to whatever He wants?
We go to God with all our ideas and plans and ask His input. But maybe we have it all wrong. Maybe we were meant to go to God and ask Him what He wants and then let Him form our ideas and plans.
Because when did letting God lead in our lives turn into running our plans past Him and trying to convince Him they really are a good idea?
Doesn't every beautiful story begin with action on God's part, and willing submission on the part of man? Since when did it turn into action on man's part and submission on God's side?
I lay on my back in the darkness, night after sleepless night, and stare at the wooden beams running across my ceiling... and talk to God about what it means to follow.
What about when He asks me to give up my dreams for a career? What about when He asks me to cancel trips so that I can serve my family and have long conversations with Him in the quiet? What about when He asks me to wait when everything inside of me is dying to act? What about when He asks me to give up all I want and let Him lead me in a way that I know not?
It doesn't make sense to my logic. And in those nights when I can't sleep, I tell Him that. I tell Him it doesn't stack up, and that I never expected this, and that I don't get why He'd lead me down roads He knew I didn't want to walk.
It's then He reminds me of the moment He asked me if I'd be best friends with Him forever. He reminds me of the way He loved me and blew all of my expectations for what His love meant out of the water. He reminds me of how in those moments I couldn't imagine how He could ever do anything to hurt me. And then He whispers gentle that He's the same now. He still loves me like that. He still wants nothing but my best good. Our best good-- Him and I together. Because isn't that what I said yes to?
He's right and I know it.
And so yeah, I may have a hundred reasons why what He is asking does not make sense and isn't fair. But I remember that all those reasons are based on my logic. Not His.
I'll be honest. I don't understand His a lot of the time. But slowly I'm starting to realize that doesn't matter.
It's not about understanding His logic. It's about trusting His heart.
As evening slips into night, He whispers His love. And I whisper my submission.
Because this God is worthy of my trust. A King who could love and win my heart like this is safe to be entrusted with my future. My present.
This isn't about me, Jesus. It's about us. Do whatever you know is best in this life... I may not understand, but I trust you. Forever.