"But, I Don't Feel Like it"

Note: The new header for the blog (you have to be at the blog, not viewing it in an email, to see it), shows a few scenes from my family's recent months as well as a slice of an amazing Hubble shot of a region of sky that is, at best, a tiny dot seen with the naked eye. God is awesome!

"But, I Don't Feel Like it"
At this time of year, with Easter a few raindrops and wildflowers away, I often find myself reflecting on Jesus' prayer in the Garden the night He was arrested—specifically Luke 22:42 where He prayed, “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.” Jesus makes it clear elsewhere that nobody took His life—He gave it by choice—and here we see that it wasn't an easy choice, nor one He probably "felt" like doing. Likewise, I doubt Paul “felt” like being stoned, shipwrecked, hungry, rejected, etc., and I doubt John “felt” like living in exile. I doubt Peter “felt” like hanging out with Gentiles. But, they did, because they loved God and He called them to, and they said "yes."

So many times there are things I sense God is probably nudging me to do, but I don't feel like it. It could be a community function I should attend, or an attitude I should change toward another, or something for (or on behalf of) another, or ??? At those times I must decide what I "feel" like doing most—pleasing myself, or Him. That is, for me, the crux of it all. I may think that whatever it is in front of me is just sort of hanging there in a vacuum, but the reality is that if God put it before me it is hanging there on Him. To say I don't feel like doing it, and then not doing it, is then, if I am honest with myself, to really say, "God, I don't feel like doing what you want me to do, so I won't."

I know that we are completely forgiven as Christians. I know that our salvation and adoption by God is based simply and solely on our faith in His work on our behalf alone. And, I also know that Paul had to address those who used that grace as a license to do, or not do, things based on their feelings and flesh. I have, many times, used the, "There is no condemnation in Christ, so I won't do something out of guilt," line . . . but the reality is, I don't want to be that way. If I am choosing to act on what I feel like doing, or don't feel like doing, instead of obeying Jesus, I don't want to feel comfortable and at peace in that. Where would it end?

Jesus asked, “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me," but He ended it with the most important line of all, "Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done." Many times I have asked God, "Do you really want me to do this?" (and sometimes He'll release me—for example, we had a wonderful family firepit night under the stars a couple months ago when I had "thought" I should go to a community function) . . . but having heard, "Yes, I want you to do this" my hearts cry is that I will always say, "Not my will, but Yours be done."

Thanks for sharing in my life. I'd love to hear your thoughts. May God bless you with a deep sense of His love for you and presence with you.   —Erick

"Christian A"

I had fun with a Christian youth group I was with recently. I made up a story about a guy called “Christian A”. He says something like, “I am a Christian. I love God—at least I think I do. I want to serve God, I think. I am trying to follow God.”

Then God’s voice says, “Christian A—I want you to go serve at a homeless shelter this Saturday.” Suddenly Christian A is saying to himself, “Oh, man. This makes me sad. This Saturday is the Final Four basketball tournament! I’ve been waiting for months for this! Wow. I don’t want to do this!”

I then asked the youth their thoughts on Christian A. I got a lot of responses about how he should be excited about doing God’s will, about how he should be happy about it, about how he might not even be a Christian because of how he felt, etc. Things were pretty harsh on Christian A.

I then threw him into even worse light by adding, “Not only that, but then Christian A asks God to send someone else!” I had them rate, on a scale of 0 to 10, Christian A’s Christianity, with 0 being maybe not even a Christian, and 10 being Jesus-like. The answers were pretty brutal—in the 1-2 range, pretty consistently.

Then, I turned to Mark 14:33-36a, with Jesus in the Garden, facing His imminent arrest and crucifixion: And he took with him Peter and James and John, and began to be greatly distressed and troubled. And he said to them, "My soul is very sorrowful, even to death. Remain here and watch." And going a little farther, he fell on the ground and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him. And he said, "Abba, Father, all things are possible for you. Remove this cup from me."

I asked them if anyone blamed Jesus for not being thrilled about taking on all sin, about being beaten and marred beyond human recognition, nailed to a cross, speared, mocked, hung up in barely any clothes, and all this by His own creation! Not one of them felt Jesus should be thrilled by that, nor did any of them condemn Him for that.

I then read them the last part of verse 36—the one that captures it all—when Jesus continues to the Father, “Yet not what I will, but what you will.” Therein lies, I believe, the pivot point. Our initial feelings may not be the most excited at paying the price, or bearing the cross, we might be asked to pay or bear—but it is what we do in spite of our feelings that will define the moment. James 1:14 tells us that, “. . . each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire.” At this point I believe it is only a temptation—we’ve got stuff in us that isn’t always perfectly aligned with God. James continues with verse 15 that tells us, “Then desire when it has conceived gives birth to sin, and sin when it is fully grown brings forth death.” The temptation is not the sin, it is what we do with it—whether we give it life and let it “conceive.”

I realize the comparisons between Jesus and “Christian A” are far from perfect matches—and I know that most anyone could come up with tons of “yeah, but . . .” comments, and, “what about . . .?” questions to what I have said—but I think the youth got my main point as we talked. I think they realized how the voice of the enemy can condemn us when we aren’t initially thrilled with what God might ask us to do—how he can whisper how we are a lousy Christian, and maybe not even saved, if we aren’t thrilled at first reflection to do what God asks. Yet, we see that even Jesus had a moment when what was ahead in obedience didn’t make Him jump for joy . . . but He did it anyway, and those initial feelings didn’t make Him less of the perfect Christ, or in sin, because He didn’t live by those emotions, but rather by faith and obedience. I find comfort in that, because, if I am honest, my imperfect love for God falters enough that I don’t always initially want to do what I know He is asking me to do. Anyone else ever feel that way?

Woosh . . .

Imagine a room, filled with people in a kingdom buzzing and chatting, and suddenly the double doors at the room's end open and in comes a son or daughter of the king. There is, somehow, a sudden shift in the atmosphere and everyone pauses and takes notice. If you are on their good side and love them, you find in their presence a strength. If you are on their bad side and hate them, you tremble and glare because you know they carry royal authority, and you know that authority is over you. Whatever you feel about them---good or bad---you are affected by them. You can't help it. They are royalty . . .

Tonight I wasn't going to be able to be with Mary Ann as she read to the girls, prayed with them, and tucked them in. I suddenly felt compelled to pray over her before she went to do it (sometimes it isn't as pretty as it sounds if the girls are tired or push it). As I was praying over her I found myself saying, suddenly, out loud, something to the effect of, ". . . and I remind you, Satan, that Mary Ann is a daughter of the King. She is the daughter of the Creator of the Universe. She is related to Jesus of Nazareth, who defeated you and whom you hate. Where she is you have no authority because she is the King's own."

I don't know how to describe it---it wasn't like it was a vision or anything---but suddenly, as I spoke, I saw her in my mind "gliding" into the girls' room and as I saw that I felt(?) "woosh" (a highly theological term, I know) as I suddenly felt/perceived the power of her royalty as the daughter of the King. It sounds funny, but it is really the best word: woosh. I literally could feel the spiritual presence she would carry into the room that, like a wind, would touch the farthest corners of the room and alter the entire room. As I reflected on it in the moments that followed, I thought, "I'll bet that is how it is in the spiritual realm when a follower and lover of Jesus comes in. Woosh, and the room takes notice as someone royal just entered and the entire room's atmosphere and attention shifted."

I think we don't realize who we are in the spiritual realm as God's adopted children who carry His authority and Holy Spirit. I think this is because we too often interpret who we are by how we FEEL about ourselves, and not by who God says we are: forgiven, loved, adopted, sealed, His children, joint heirs with Christ, those with bold access to His throne, His chosen people, His ambassadors, those who operate in His name (authority). While, in reality, we carry HIS righteousness, HIS authority, HIS seal, HIS Spirit, we FEEL all OUR darkness, OUR failures, OUR aging bodies, OUR lack of faith, and we identify that as who we are.

I wonder if, when we enter a room, feeling like we are just sort of dragging ourselves in, there maybe really is a "woosh" in the spiritual realm---the angelic hosts notice and, marveling at this love of the King they can't quite fathom, say, "There is one of the King's children---one whom He died for and loves and whom He has a covenant bond with and who speaks for Him," and the hosts of darkness draw back and tremble and hope that we don't realize who we are or begin to exercise our place of authority over them and their works.

I don't know how theologically correct all that is, but I have a feeling it might be more true than we realize.

---Think about who our God is, and who He has made us to be. It is actually amazing!

---Reflect on the testimony we have from the Gospels and Acts of the early disciples and Apostles when they understood and walked in the authority Jesus gave them. We don't see drawn out, flamboyant, long-winded, fever-pitched battles and screaming. They simply spoke and commanded (I get the sense probably quietly and confidently) and darkness and its works (sickness, bondage, torment, etc.) submitted.

---Think about Genesis 20 when Abimelech (a gentile) was right and on the higher ground and Abraham (God's covenant partner) was at a low point of faith and conduct. It was still Abraham's prayers that were required to heal Abimelech's household! Even at his weakest, Abraham carried more influence in the spiritual realm than Abimelech did at his strength! What a lesson in who we are in Christ that is for us, the children of God in the New Covenant!

When we meditate on these things it becomes no wonder the Bible promises that the devil WILL flee when we resist him. It is no wonder Bill Johnson could say that when a Christian enters a room the entire equation and situation changes because the Spirit (presence) of God Almighty enters with him (or her).

I wonder, if we really realized who we are in Christ and actually walked it out each day bringing that awareness and authority to bear in every situation we are in, what this world would look like . . . I wonder what might happen if we spoke in Jesus' name and actually expected something to happen---expected it to the point where we would be shocked if it didn't . . . I wonder . . .