Because He Said So

I've recently started reading "Brave Enough to Follow" by Stuart Briscoe. Like many people, I've often identified with Peter, so I thought it would be good to go through a book exploring his spiritual journey with Jesus.

The first chapter talks about the time when Jesus tells Peter to cast his nets into the lake. I'd never really thought about just how nonsensical this command seemed. In the cool of the night, Peter and the others had caught no fish. Not one. The fish would be far less likely to be present now, with the water warming up.

But here's the thing that really got me: Peter had already cleaned his nets. He'd put a lot of effort into a long night of fruitless fishing, and he'd gone through the trouble of wrapping up his day. Mentally and physically, he was done. And then Jesus tells him to put those freshly cleaned nets back in the water.

As a neat freak, I resonated with Stuart's point. Jesus was telling Peter to undo the work of cleaning his nets. And for what? Likely, for no fish...just to have to clean the nets again.

And Peter, who we know throughout the gospels is full of faux pas, acknowledges the silliness of Jesus' request...but then says this: "Because you say so, I will let down the nets" (Luke 5:5).

Last week in Sunday School a kid asked me why she couldn't do something and I said, "Because I said so." It was the first time I've said it, to my recollection! I guess you know you're old when you give a kid that reason.

But Jesus didn't need to give Peter a reason. Peter's the one who recognized that he wanted to obey just because Jesus said so.

At the end of each chapter there's a series of questions. One was "In what areas of your life is it the most difficult to let go of your agenda?" I scoffed in response, realizing I couldn't really narrow it down to just a few areas of my life. I blogged recently about not writing out a script to my life anymore. And that's good.

But I'm still a control freak. I still get annoyed when someone knocks over or moves something on my desk. I have a place for everything, and I like it that way. So I can just picture myself having cleaned and put my nets away...and I think I'd be a little perturbed that Jesus was messing with my system.

I think my whole life will be a journey of learning to let go. But this was another reminder to loosen up and give Jesus the space to speak into my life—even if it messes up my system.

Scripted

I've written before about my realization upon re-reading Psalm 139:16 that God is a better writer than me. But I'm seeing some ways God has helped me grow to more than just head knowledge of that.

There's this scene in the movie Must Love Dogs where John Cusack's character and his buddy are talking about women. And it goes like this.

"I think women have the whole thing planned. Really, the whole thing. An epic narrative in their heads. You know my theory about this? When you meet, they have the whole story written. But you don't get to read it. But if you go off script..."

"...right? They write you out of the story."

I saw that movie years ago and laughed at that dialogue because I recognized it as truth in my life. And I thought about it more recently as I reflected on how God is a better writer than me.

I used to have a script for my whole life. When I'd get married, what kind of job I'd have, when I'd switch to a different job, how each day would go...everything. Every aspect of my life was scripted out in my head, a carefully planned agenda (that never seemed to stay on script anyway). And I would do whatever I could to keep things on script.

And I recently realized it's been a long time since I've had a script. I mean sure, I plan out what I hope to accomplish in a day, but I don't try to foresee every little detail. I have no five-year plan. I have no one-year plan, even. I've always struggled with living in the present until one day I realized I was doing it! God changed me so gradually, so subtly, that I began to write less and less of my life script and leave that to him.

And that has led to a lot more peace and contentment than I ever had when I had a script.

I'm sure I'll face temptation to pick up my scripting pen again at some point (or several). But I hope when that temptation comes, this peace and contentment will help me keep the pen on the table and trust in God.

King David

Here’s the thing that amazes me most about King David: he was anointed king years before he actually became the king. He knew God’s plan when he was a musician playing in the king’s palace. When he was a lowly shepherd boy slinging rocks at a giant. When the king tried to kill him (over, and over). When he lived like a fugitive. When he had the chance to kill the king.

All that time, David just waited. He knew God’s plan. He knew it. But he waited patiently. He didn’t turn around and sling a rock at Saul. Or kill him when he caught him taking care of business in a cave. 

I remember going to a writer’s conference a couple years ago and Jerry B. Jenkins answered an audience question about what he’d tell his young self if he could. Jerry said, “I’d tell myself, ‘you’re going to be very, very lucky.’” And I thought, “I wouldn’t want to know.”

Because if I knew that I was going to rule a country or sell best-selling books…I wouldn’t be patient about it. I’d try to make it happen sooner. I’d try to rush God’s plans. If I knew now that 10 years from now I’d be doing X (assuming I liked plan X), I’d try to make it happen in 1 year. The Bible says David was a man after God’s own heart. And with the exception of a few really bad decisions in there, he showed it over and over again. But one way that I’ve often overlooked in that is his patience.

 Sometimes I feel like I want a spoiler of certain things that will happen in my life. But thank God, he hasn’t shown them to me.

Turbulence

When I flew home at Christmas, I had the scariest flight experience of my life. Most of the flight was smooth, but as we began our descent we hit some turbulence. And this wasn't just a few little bumps. The plane was bouncing all over the place. You could see people's heads bobbing up and down. At one point the plane was on its side, and you could tell it wasn't because the pilot was trying to make a turn.

The plane felt completely out of control.

And of course, the only thing I could do in that moment was pray. I couldn't take over the piloting, and even if I was an expert pilot, it wouldn't have made a difference. I couldn't stop the air currents from causing the turbulence. But I had a lot at stake: Dunkin Donuts awaited me.

Well, the extreme turbulence continued through the entire descent. Even as the wheels hovered just a few feet off the runway, ready to touch down, the plane felt out of control. People clapped when we landed safely.

I'm someone who definitely likes to feel in control. I do a lot of planning ahead. I map out how each day should go. I arrange things just the way I want them. I have 16 dog-shaped erasers on my desk at work and when a co-worker turned two around so they didn't face the same direction as the others, I noticed within a couple of working days and rectified the problem.

And in the airport just before the flight, I'd been writing in a journal about my control issues. And that sometimes, I needed to learn to let go. That there were some things I just couldn't control and shouldn't try to.

So, chalk that turbulence up to God giving me an experience to cement that principle. When I was in a situation where I felt out of control, it was completely instinctual to go to the One who could bring control. The One who really was in control all along.

Now I just need to learn to give him the flight plan.

Waiting

I had this thought today about waiting. I've blogged before about how waiting seems so hard because sometimes, you don't even know what you're waiting for. Romans 5 says if we hope for what we don't yet have, we wait for it patiently. But what about when we're not sure our hopes are even what we'll end up getting? It's hard to wait patiently when we're not even sure all that patience will yield what we want.

But my thought today was about dessert. Because, well, I think about dessert a lot anyway. I was thinking about how when I was a kid, every night for dessert we got a bowl of ice cream and a cookie. And through my green beans, I had to exercise a lot of patience as I waited for that yummy dessert.

But what if one night, my parents had an even yummier surprise dessert? What if they had ice cream cake (with the chocolate crumblies), or double chocolate Dunkin Donuts, or a trip to an ice cream parlor? I'd be waiting for my bowl of ice cream and cookie and never get it...but only because I'm getting something far better!

When we don't get what we want, it's because God has something better in store. I've come to the realization that there are things I was waiting for that are pretty much not going to happen. But all that means is that I'm going to the ice cream parlor! What I thought was going to be an awesome thing probably won't happen...but whatever God will do in my life will be vastly greater.

And that's why I can wait patiently and hopefully.

In the Midst

Yesterday I had lunch with someone who wanted to know my story of how I got to my current place of employment. I'm sure I've blogged about this before, but if so, it's been a while. And rehashing the story just reminded me how God is so present even when he doesn't seem to be.

I was at my previous employer for a little over three years. My role was primarily curriculum development, and I also led the teen helper ministry, which was a huge passion of mine. I also was in charge of conferences—not something I enjoyed.

So in March of 2008 when I learned that I would be in charge of the nursery (I can't stand babies) and losing the teen helper ministry, as well as reducing the amount of time I had to spend on curriculum development...I was crushed. Even though I also lost the conferences, which was a bright spot of the change, I was devastated to lose the teen helpers and gain a bunch of babies.

This began a very dark time in my life. I started my new position that May, and I was miserable. I quickly began to feel depressed. I couldn't sleep at night. I would regularly have to leave my desk, go to my secret hideaway at work, and curl up in a ball to cry. And I was very, very angry at God for doing this to me.

But here's the thing. I'd applied for other jobs, including one where I currently work, during my time at my old job. And while I hadn't even gotten as far as an interview in any of them, applying at those jobs made me think, "Could I really do that? Could I really leave the teen helper ministry?" I loved those teens, and letting go of that would've been really hard to justify.

So God just took it away from me. I didn't have to decide to let go, it was gone. Although that made me really angry, I can see now that he was loosening me up to prepare me for the next stage of my life. And because I had months to transition the ministry to new leadership, rather than a couple weeks, I was able to do so much more thoroughly.

As for the nursery? I'm so glad I didn't have to be there any longer than a couple months. (I put in my notice to go part time and only do curriculum about a month and a half into the nursery job.) But I did learn some things in my short time there that have applied to my current role. Even in a job that was a total square-peg-in-round-hole fit for me, God was teaching me, shaping me.

I said to my lunch buddy yesterday, "It was one of those things where I couldn't see God in the midst of it, but looking back he had such a great plan." And it's true. Everything that happened in 2008 was necessary for me to transition well to a new place in life.

When life seems dark and we don't know what on earth God is up to, he's still in the midst of it. He's probably doing something absolutely amazing, if you can just hold on.