God, Go With Me

I discovered something today - I'm not nearly as concerned about where God will send me as I am with whether or not God will go there with me.  Have I ever really sought God's face with desperation before?  Have I ever come to the end of my self and discovered the thirst, the longing to have God at my side?  What if all of this is about shattering my confidence, shattering my broken cisterns that hold no water, and helping me recognize my thirst? 

 

I'm not an expert at anything.  I have nothing to offer to God, except my little life.  I think I feel how Manasseh must have felt in prison, or how the prodigal son felt on the way home. 

 

Is all this the extent to which God has to go to get me to just surrender to him?  Is my neck and are my knees that stiff? 

 

I love Moses.  The people had just broken their covenant with God, worshipping a golden cow, and Moses had no defense for their actions.  They were sinful, they were rebellious, they were stiff-necked.  BUT THEY WERE STILL GOD'S PEOPLE.  And so he wrestles with God for their future.  He won't let them go down, at least not without fighting on their behalf.  And God chooses to forgive.  And He revokes His threat to not go with them into their inheritance.  He remembers his promises to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob and he honors the arrangement, at great personal cost to himself. 

 

I draw hope from this story (Exodus 32-34, if you want to read it yourself) as I look within my own heart.  I am stiff-necked, but I am God's son.  He has made promises to me, and to Jesus about me.  He will not abandon me now, or ever.  But I must stay HERE - broken, empty, thirsty - and cry out to Him to fill me, to satisfy me, to lead and guide me.  Be persistent, like Moses was - until God shows me His glory.

 

What if that will actually happen?  What if God will actually show up?  I want to find out.

Can God Really Be Trusted?

That's life's ultimate question, right?  If you can confidently (or semi-confidently) answer that question as a "yes," then you will persevere no matter what suffering comes your way.  You'll just interpret every struggle, every pain as part of God's larger process to do good things to and for you.  You'll wait as long as you have to wait to see what that good might be.  Even better, if He can be trusted, then the uncertainty and paralysis that live in my chest dissipate.  Obeying and persevering might hurt me, and it might be difficult, but at least I know what to do.

On the other hand, if the answer is no, then there's really no point in doing the "right thing."  Ever.  It certainly makes no sense to deny yourself some pleasure or to tolerate agony if God can't be trusted.  If He's playing some cosmic game with us (no matter the reason why),  we're all screwed, especially those of us who were raised to be afraid of breaking rules or disobeying authority.  And that belief will drive me to interpret even the good things I experience from God with a great deal of suspicion and fear about what calamity is coming for me next.  I will shrink back from Him like a victim of sexual abuse shrinks back from any affection offered to them for fear that the next moment might involve yet another betrayal.

Is God trying to hurt me, or is he trying to parent me?  How we answer that question will determine the course and the outcome of our lives.

Potential...

...is a beautiful thing when you're 16.  Or 23.  Maybe even 28.  But at some point you have to look in the mirror at your 33 year old face and realize that you can't hide behind that word anymore.  You can't wait it out or delay until the perfect opportunity comes your way.  You have to step up.  You have to lead yourself.  You have to choose something to chase after and then go for it. 

You've got to tell yourself the truth, starting with this little inspirational gem:  your youth is behind you.  The days of waiting to be "discovered" by someone else who will hold your hand and walk you through the minefield are gone.  Thirty-somethings don't "get discovered" - no one is looking for you.  If you're going to leave a legacy, make an impact, you have to make it happen.  You have to care enough to move, because no one is going to come behind you and push you towards your destiny.  Gandalf doesn't exist.  Not for you.  No Marines are coming behind enemy lines to save you.  If you get out, you've got to want it enough to get yourself out.  If you want to be heard, you have to stand up and scream yourself hoarse. 

You have to decide what matters to you - what your life is going to be about.  No golden book is going to fall out of the sky at your feet, no magical fairy is going to give you an instruction manual with a treasure map complete with "x marks the spot."  You've got to figure out what you care about and then move towards that with all your resources, regardless of whether or not you are noticed or given any accolades for doing so. 

It comes down to our ability and our responsibility to make choices.  What I will choose might already be written in the book of fate, I honestly don't know.  All I know is that the fear within me is real.  The hesitation, the doubt, the gut-wrenching nausea is present with me whenever I make a decision, whether I'm just a pawn of fate or not.  It feels real, and all the metaphysical stuff debated on epic television shows and self-important theology classrooms comes down to this:  it feels real, and I have to make a choice.  Now.  I have to make a choice about what kind of man I will be.  I have to make a choice about what kind of father I will be.  I have to make a choice about the kind of suffering that I will try to ease and that I will fight to bring to an end.  I have to stop paralyzing myself with doubt about whether or not I'm selecting the perfect option and just opt for the best one that I can see. 

My life isn't about me anymore.  It's not about what I can accomplish, whether anyone will realize that I'm a diamond in the rough and then raise me up to kill dragons or win glory or make a name for myself.  It's really about three little boys who look a little bit like me.  They're the ones with potential worth developing, worth coaxing into reality.  It's about them learning early on to choose to act and teaching them to convert that potential into actions as soon as they are able.  It's about not letting them cut corners, about pushing them the ways that I was never pushed. 

It's too late for me to "become" a man.  My "becoming" days are behind me.  It's about "being" a man, or as close to one as I can be.  In those moments when I don't know how to do that, then it's about acting like a man.  Making choices to do what a man would do, and letting the history books remember me, or choose to forget me, however they want.