Skip to main content

Sometimes I Need to be Reminded of the Destination



Do you ever wish that God’s guiding were as clear as typing an address into an Iphone and pressing the “give me directions button?” Sure, Iphone directions are occasionally circuitous, but I’ve always ended up at the destination. I don’t always feel that way about God’s will. Then I remember that I often view God’s will as a particular path, when instead it is a destination and there are many routes to arrive at that destination. The destination is full redemption of the human person.

Meanwhile there are the paths that we trod here and now.

Several years ago a friend and I read Hearing God by Dallas Willard on the topic of God’s will. She was in Africa homeschooling a couple kids and I was in California just becoming a teacher. We both fell into the jobs we were doing at the time. And yet, both of us understood our jobs as God directed.

Willard argues that instead of one path, one God mandated right or wrong action, for a marriage, a job, or who to hang out with, God instead allows us choices of different paths. Granted within the various paths open to us we are expected to be prayerful (we are also expected to behave as children of God so robbing, lying, manipulation are out), because occasionally God gives very specific commands. I don’t know how often specific commands come or even how they come. I only know that sometimes they do come. (See Peter being commanded to meet Cornelius). Or at least so Willard argues. When a specific command is not given, we are given the freedom to choose the paths that desire or circumstances or both opens up to us.

Ultimately, there is a destination. The destination is that me, Nathan, Felicity… people— are to be redeemed and to be made into creatures that God intends us to be. Lewis speaks of our unredeemed reality as little more then ghosts, ephemeral vapors that need to be hardened and made solid. God’s will is that we become solid, real people and oftentimes circumstances are incidental to that.

Sometimes when I’m really worried about what to do, which job to take or what to do with my time, I have to remember that God is often more concerned with how I approach my tasks and not what the tasks are.

God may I have the endurance to become like you in my everyday life within the freedom you granted me and the wisdom to know if you are leading me to a particular task, conversation, or job. 


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

The Adventure Begins Very Early on the Morning of July 15th

Note: In-N-Out is the first place I go when I arrive back in California. The California chain tastes like coming home. My day had been planned. I was going to walk with friends. Have coffee with my mom and a phone date in the evening. Followed by my husband asking, “what should we have for dinner.” And me responding “In-n-Out.” I’ll admit it I did exercise in hopes of expediting the labor process, but as I had been told, “babies will come when they will.” So I laid my plans: Plan A the aforementioned walk etc. and Plan B— Have a baby. When my mom arrived, full of more energy than I’m used to her having (a contrast with my labored lack of energy), it was apparent that Plan B was in effect. We were most definitely not going to coffee. I was going to have a baby. Labor… it’s not fun. Epidurals… they are a wonderful invention. It was late evening. I’d hoped they’d let me push on the 14 th . The history nerd in me was caught by the idea of having a baby on Bastille D...
1 comment
Read more

The Bicycle Onsie is too Small!!

The fabric stretched around Felicity’s little feet and nestled her in a perfect fit. It was the first time I’d put Felicity in a onesie with feet. Up until then, she wore t-shirt onesies that snapped around her diaper. They were light and perfect for the hot summer days. But when nighttime came, Felicity liked to be cuddled and the footsie onsie was the perfect solution. Up until now, all Felicity’s clothes flopped and folded around Felicity’s tiny, baby body. She swam in the extra fabric. This onsie was snug and it fit like it was made for her. She’d wave her little legs and arms and the white fabric with little bicycles printed across its surface stretched with her. I loved putting her into it. Then something happened. It didn’t take long…maybe a couple of weeks. The bicycle onesie was washed following a diaper explosion and the cotton cloth shrunk. But just a little. Felicity’s cheeks and limbs became rounder and her eyes wider. She watched the ceiling fan and figured o...
Post a Comment
Read more

Slaying Giants

Days like this begin when the night before I choose not to sleep, because I must read a few more lines from some news site or scroll one last time through the glowing screen of my iPhone instead of making good on my resolve to read quality literature and journal prior to bed. They continue when I wake up earlier than usual to teach, but finish teaching to realize that my children also went to bed later then they should. So now, everyone’s patience operates like feet hitting a wet spot on a wood floor. Bam. You loose traction. And first one then another is upset and done. That tantrum sparked another melt-down from someone else, and as I try to not join the melt-downs, and instead attempt to be the adult I hazard some words of explanation.  “Your choices impact us all.” I tell one of them.  My children’s choice do change the tenor of the room for good or for ill, but so do my choices. On days of this sort, where nothing is really wrong, other than a strong case of the grumpies...
Post a Comment
Read more