My "Yes" to God

Yesterday I was sitting in my bed, an open journal before me. I was reflecting on the will of God for my life versus the freedom that He allows me to walk in, feeling conflicted as to what was right. Sometimes living for Jesus is full of tension, and that is why faith was never about rules, but a relationship.

Sometimes I feel so terrified of missing it that I just sit and wait. On one hand, waiting can be wise. But waiting with fear as the fuel can waste away a perfectly good life. So yesterday I sat, the tension in me and all around me. My heart cry is always, “Just tell me what to do.” And, it seems in these moments of agonizing vulnerability, when I could really use a clear answer, that He becomes a silent God.

It frustrates and fascinates me. God tells me the quickest ways to get around town. He speaks to me while I do the dishes. He gives me clues about my kid’s hearts when they are withdrawn or hurting. He tells me how to pray for my husband. But, when I really need an answer, Nada.

Typically this is when I am tempted by human wisdom. I’ll make a nice and practical pros and cons list, or I’ll start thinking about money or time and overall what my capacity is to carry what I feel He is calling me to do. Yesterday I found myself in this place and all at once I said, “This thing is hard...” I just stayed on that thought. Then I thought, “It’s actually impossible...”

Of course, God’s quiet voice invaded my space, “Just because it’s hard doesn’t mean it isn’t me.”

Now, I don’t mean to say conclusively that all hard things are from God and all simple things are human, but typically God does not call us to anything that can be done in our own strength. And, if I’m honest with myself, often I know exactly what God wants me to do, I just spend days or years wrestling with the concept because I remain impressed by the largeness of how hard it will be.

Even recently I was struggling with whether or not I should have more children. I feel very certain what God wants me to do. Yet all I can think about is how hard it will be to have another baby, how little sleep I already get, how overwhelmed I feel. The truth is, there is plenty of freedom to acknowledge my inadequacies and the fact that I have five other children to care for. Personally, though, I’ve felt a sense time and time again that while there is freedom to do what I want, avoiding something because it is inconvenient or difficult is not a valid excuse in the kingdom. If I don’t want more children, awesome. But, if I want more children but deny that urge because it’s hard, let’s just say I never start my decision-making process there. Several weeks ago I was reflecting on all of this and exploded to Paul, “Why do we have to do things the hard way? I don’t understand. Whyyyy?” It’s annoying to constantly be stretched, then fight and find stability, and just then feel a gentle tug from the Father to a new level of being stretched. Ouch. Yet I’ve made a decision to never say no to God because something is hard. I may tantrum and complain and write nasty notes in my journal. I may sit in my bed and bargain with the Bible opened to a verse on trust. Eventually, I surrender. Sometimes my life settles into normal and I get the sense God just wanted my heart. Then other times, I’m standing at my kitchen sink in Redding five years ago and God says, “Get ready. You’re moving.”

Years ago I wrote a blog on the significant impact of the faith of one person, based on Romans 6:18, "...But because one other person obeyed God, many will be made righteous." It challenged me then to be a person that says yes to God, no matter the cost. I believe the faith of one person can literally ignite a reformation and shift culture.

Lately, another revelation hit me as I read the story of the Roman officer in Matthew 8:5-13. Jesus was impressed by faith, like floored at the capacity this man had to trust God. This officer surprised God. I circled this story and wrote in the margin, “I want to impress God with my faith.” I want to be someone that makes the God of the universe stop in His tracks and say, “Wow. Okay, you can have exactly what you’ve believed for.”

I hope this is an honest blog, not just about my desire for extravagant faith, but about the wrestling process I often find myself in, the place between my yes and my humanity. I also want to be intentional to say that faith is not about living recklessly, but being recklessly surrendered to God. It’s a partnership. I’ve heard stories of families selling everything and arriving in foreign cities with their children and the clothes on their backs. God met them in extraordinary ways, paving their path safely one step at a time. Then, I’ve heard the flip side...the same exact story, but the family ends up with nothing, scrounging their way back home. The latter story makes me shudder. It’s the reason for my wrestle. God, don’t let me miss it.

At the same time, I think more people miss out on an incredible God adventure because they remain in fear of failure instead of seeing failure as a catalyst for growth. The truth is, the Bible is full of stories of people who were obedient to God and they still failed or didn't fulfill their mission. And yet, that still is not an excuse to abandon the promise [See Hebrews 11].

 Ah, well, enjoy my musings on life and faith and all the in-between mess of trust. I just want God to take my pain, my fear, my inadequacies and make something beautiful for His glory, because I can promise that any and all fruit in my life isn’t because I’ve done anything on my own, I’ve just said yes to Him over and over and over and over. It’s been so hard at times, yet I wouldn’t take it back, and that’s why I sit before Him in agony and anticipation and say with confidence, “You can have my yes again.”