On The Road

I have been traveling for the last couple of weeks, thus the lack of blogging. Actually I am not just traveling, I am in the process of moving. I have packed up my household and have entered into a type of nebulous and nomadic existence. I feel like the Lord has asked me to leave where we were living and working and to follow Him to the place where He will show us. At this point we have no solid idea of where that will be, but we have left our home behind in an attempt to follow. We are trusting that He will guide and direct us in His good time and that He will not abandon us along the road.

This is definitely a faith journey as well as a physical one. If I am honest there is a niggling fear at the back of my mind that having pulled up stakes we might find ourselves wandering in a desert without a guide. I hear the desperation in Moses prayer, "If you do not go with us, please don't make us go!" There is the fear that perhaps He has led us out into this wilderness and will not lead us to the other side. There is also a real fear that perhaps we have misheard or misunderstood. I want to know the destination and how to get there, but He refuses to tell me. I find myself longing for a road map more than for a pillar of fire and smoke. Instead He is with me on the journey and assures me of His presence. He asks me to trust Him and to simply walk with Him day by day.

I am comforted by the fact that He has never abandoned us. He has been faithful to guide us and direct us every step of the way. It is true that this guidance was not always with manifest presence, but it is clear in hindsight. Looking back I can see that He has been ever present and has been guiding me in paths of righteousness for His Name's sake. He will not abandon me because He promises never to leave me or forsake me. He promises to be with me always, even to the end of the age. His honor and glory are at stake.

So, we have ventured out into the unknown, not knowing what is before us and trusting that He truly has spoken to us and beckoned us to follow Him into this wilderness. I trust that He has many lessons to teach us on this journey as He taught the Israelites in the deserts of Sinai.

Submission

Submission is not something that we generally emphasize in the West. We emphasize initiative, action, planning, creative solutions, etc... All of these are good things, but I am realizing how hard, and how unnatural, it is for me to submit. Perhaps this is just human nature, but it seems to me that submission is particularly difficult for those of us raised in the West. In America in particular, we are raised to be strong individuals who look out for ourselves. In the scandalous era in which we live, we have learned cynicism and distrust rather than submission. Authority is something to be questioned, power is something to be balanced, kings are to be overthrown. In this context how can we look on submission with anything short of incredulity and skepticism.

I am very much a product of my culture. Living and working overseas for roughly a decade has stretched my horizons, but has also shown me how much my own culture has influenced me in ways that are subtle and often hard to identify. I find myself struggling with submission. I praise God that He has taken me through a training school of hard knocks to teach me to submit to the leaders that He has placed over me, and yet, deep in my heart there lies a lack of submission to God specifically. I am finding submission especially difficult lately because it seems that He has assigned me a particularly odious task.

It seems like God's marching order for me these days is to wait. He continually draws me to passages with this emphasis and the quiet witness of the Spirit in my heart is to wait, to be still. Just this evening I was reminded of Is. 30. The people of Israel would not wait for the Lord and His plan for them. Instead they made plans to save themselves. The Lord responds in verse 15: “In repentance and rest is your salvation,in quietness and trust is your strength,but you would have none of it." I find so much of my own journey reflected in the attitudes and actions of the Israelites.

I am a man of action. I need something to do, a mountain to climb, a challenge to overcome, a task to accomplish. I want to move things along, to drive things. Sometimes I think I would rather move in the wrong direction rather than just sit still. So, the Lord is asking me to wait, to be still and know that He is God, to rest in quietness and trust. This is among the toughest assignments He could give me. Waiting on Him is contrary to my heart, my culture, my personality, my training. Everything in me screams to get moving, to plan the next steps, to think my way out of the doldrums; but He tells me to wait, to be still, to trust. So, here I am waiting, praying that He will speak and release me from the prison of stillness, learning to submit to the King of the Universe.

The Journey of Faith

I am hungry for God and want more than anything to know Him and walk with Him, but I find the journey toward Him to be excruciating. I believe that I am on the right path, but I am SO impatient for my own growth. I find it hard to enjoy the journey, and instead find myself frustrated with myself and with others along the way. I find the process to be roughly analogous to physical training. It is hard work and the good that it achieves may not be readily felt of ever fully known; and yet over time the change can be perceived, if not by the eye then in the experience of living in the improved body. I agree with Paul that physical training is of some value, and trust that he is right when he says that training in godliness is of great value for the present life as well as the one to come.

God is refining me and that requires humility. But, the way to humility is through humiliation. Perhaps not for everyone, but it certainly seems to be for me. Yet again I find myself smarting after an interaction. I find myself longing to be understood and valued for who I am. I know that the reason it feels so bad is because I have not reached the holy indifference to the opinion of man that is the mark of true humility. I am wondering if this is even possible short of heaven. And yet, I see progress. I can see some progress in my own life and as I talk with and read those who are farther along I believe that much more is attainable than I have yet laid hold of. So, I press on.

And yet, I’m tired. Tired of being judged. Tired of being misunderstood. Tired of trying to fit into some mold of what a man should be, a Christian should be, a leader should be. I long to be free to be completely who I am. I do not long to stop changing or growing, it is that I long to be free to grow along the path that is uniquely mine, rather than the paths that others would mark out for me. There are a few true companions who know me, who give me the freedom to be who I am, and love me enough to push me to be a better version of myself. These are precious gifts to me that sustain and encourage me on the journey. Perhaps God alone should be enough for me, but I am grateful for these boons, these treasures, these friends.

I recognize that I not only lack humility, but I also lack faith. I can be a little self-congratulatory about my ability to step out into the unknown, but true faith is trust, not tolerance for ambiguity. I am reminded about a story I once read about a knight who served a lord. One day, the lord asked him to extend his sword arm. As he did so his lord raised his sword and poised to strike the blow that would sever his hand from his arm and end his fighting career. The knight was faced with a crucial test of his trust in his superior. I feel like God has asked me to extend my hand. Do I trust Him enough to leave my hand extended, to draw near enough to Him to be within striking distance? Or, do I withdraw it because I don’t trust that it will be worth it. I know that there will be pain and loss, but do I trust that the purpose will be worth the pain. Do I trust my commander, my Lord, enough to be expendable, to be expended on the battlefield? We may dream of marching victoriously with the conqueror, but who dreams being counted among the dead and maimed on the battlefield? Do I trust Him enough to let Him wound me?

After all, He is not tame. There are those who would assure me that my vision of God is too grim, too bloody, but I wonder if they have not emasculated God in their desire to make Him more amiable. The God of the scriptures is fierce and bold. He slays His enemies, and sometimes His friends. He is not random nor capricious, but neither is He tame and domesticated. He never acts out of character, but he chastises those who would reduce Him to formulas and platitudes; Job’s friends and the Pharisees are the most obvious examples of this. So, do I trust this wild God? Do I trust Him enough to be crushed by Him? What if I am not Joseph, or David, who endured the trials and depredations for a time, and were later exalted? What if I am Jonathan, or the thousands of unnamed warriors who were faithful and obedient and died in the struggle? Can I trust Him then? I cry out with Peter, “Where else can I go Lord? Who else has the words of eternal life?” And with Job, “I know that my redeemer lives” and “though He slay me, yet I will trust in Him.”