The Life Hack to Finding God's Will

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

I’m a reader. Books, blogs, magazines—I think they’re all great. When I have questions or am curious about something, most of the time, I’ll try to read about it.

Photo Credit: Flickr User Stewart, Creative Commons

This past Sunday I was in Tots, so I listened to the sermon on my phone while on a run. This type of environment doesn’t create the easiest listening situation, but when I heard Pastor Dirk say something about a “book recommendation,” my ears immediately perked up. “An awesome book about finding God’s will that I haven’t read? This could solve all my problems!” was seriously the thought that ran through my head.

I’ve been doing this church thing for a while, so I should have seen this one coming, but when the answer was “It’s the Bible,” my shoulders slumped. Not that I dislike the Bible, but the thing is long. It’s not the book I turn to when I’m in the mood for a fun, lighthearted story. Nor does it have Brianna’s Life Plan in an easy-to-read, color-coded format like I’d like it to.

When we talk about how we want to find God’s will for our lives, asking him which school to go to, whether we should buy this house or that one, how many kids we should have, and so on, I think most of the time we want the easy “life hack” answer. We want a quick reference guide we can pull up in the heat of the moment, something quick and simple with very clear answers.

The Bible doesn’t work like that.

Most of the time, finding God’s will doesn’t work like that.

We can be assured that God’s sovereign will, or what Pastor Dirk defined as “the stuff that actually happens,” will always come to be. He’s God, after all. He’s got it. God’s moral will, outlined in the Ten Commandments and elsewhere in the Bible, gives us a pretty clear set of behaviors God does and does not want his followers to adhere to.

His personal will though, the specifics of which job to choose and where to live and when to have kids, is often not nearly as clear. Honestly, passages like Proverbs 3:5-6 often irritate me more than comfort me.

“Trust in the Lord with all your heart
    and lean not on your own understanding;
in all your ways submit to him,
    and he will make your paths straight.”

It sounds so nice and simple, but while it says so much, when I’m freaking out over what to do next with my life, it feels like it says so little.

Here’s where my love of reading becomes a danger to me: There is no handy-dandy magical guidebook to how God wants me to live my life.

The way to finding God’s will is the long game. It’s about more than reading his word; it’s about digging in, sitting in it, and then living it. It’s about more than praying for five seconds once a day; it’s about figuring out what a true relationship with God looks like. It’s about more than saying we trust him; it’s about wholly submitting each and every piece of our life to him, every day—which isn’t easy either. “Trust God” is one of those nice Christian-y phrases we like to throw around, but when the tuition is due and the bank account is empty, when the baby is sick and the doctors don’t know why, when the relationships are broken and there’s no foreseeable fix—throwing around “Trust God” seems a bit flat.

Yet it’s right there, in the Bible. So I think learning God’s will and trusting God’s will are things we learn by doing. The Bible tells us to do them, but it doesn’t lay out what it looks like in our individual lives on a daily basis, in the nit and the grit with meetings to attend, children to be fed, bills to be paid, friends to be loved, and decisions to be made. No book in the world can do that.

There is no easy “life hack” to finding God’s will. It’s a process, learned moment by moment as we earnestly seek him. 

[Brianna DeWitt believes in Jesus, surrounding yourself with good people, and that desserts are best when they involve chocolate and peanut butter. You can read more of her musings on her own blog or follow her on Twitter @bwitt722.]

Risky Living

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

Noodles are my kids’ favorite food; if given the choice of any food in the world (which is why we don’t let toddlers choose their diet). Needless to say, I make a lot of macaroni and cheese – the kind from a box. I no longer read the directions on the box – I make enough that it’s beyond memorized; it’s automatic.

So one day when my daughter would not eat her macaroni and cheese, I was perplexed. She claimed it “tasted like sand” (she was not incorrect – it was pretty icky). I had used a new brand I found on sale, and this was our first box…of twelve (it was a really good sale). I tried to sneak in another box a few days later, but once again it was borderline inedible.

When we had been macaroni-less for some time, I got out another box, and something compelled me to look at the directions: they were different! Who was this company with their strange macaroni directions?! Turns out, when you follow the directions, it tastes delicious.  

At this time in my life, God hasn’t called me personally to a wild, risky and costly, dangerous missionary life. He hasn’t asked me to live where I might spread His word and contract exotic diseases. He hasn’t asked me to share the gospel with people who might kill or eat me. I live here, in Michigan, in my climate controlled house with my stable, steady life. He’s asked me to glorify Him right here.

And yet living to bring Him glory will always be a risky, costly, dangerous life.

We’re so settled in to our “regular” lives – the ways that we spend our time, respond to other people, interact with the world at large, the habits and routines that get us out the door in the morning – that we don’t think too much about the directions we’re following. Are they God’s, or the world’s? Too often, most of my regular life is governed by the directions of this world – seeking comfort, financial stability, achieving and succeeding. My life is focused on what is tangibly in front of me, the temporal things in this world, instead of the future eternity I have in Christ.

After hearing Sunday’s missionary stories where God is so clearly glorified by the willingness of believers to forsake this world and live boldly for Him, we might be tempted to ask ourselves, “If I knew danger was the will of God, would I go?”

What if we replace that word danger with some other, more everyday risks that God asks us to take here, in our regular lives.

• If I knew being kind and patient with the Comcast lady was the will of God, would I do it?
• If I knew that loving my mother (or your favorite, difficult relative) the way Jesus loves me was the will of God, would I do it?
• If I knew that sharing difficult truth with my good friend was the will of God, would I do it?
• If I knew that working diligently to my full potential (at my job or in school) was the will of God, would I do it?
• If I knew that allocating my money or time less selfishly was the will of God, would I do it?

The fact is I do know that all of those things are the will of God – I read them in my Bible: be patient and kind (Galatians 5:22), love one another (John 13:34), speak edifying words (Ephesians 4:29), work as though working for God (Colossians 3:23), don’t love money (Matthew 6:19-21). Living to God’s glory - living in His will instead of in our perceived ease and safety - is risky to our security in this world, costly to our comfort, dangerous to our selfish plans. God invites us to risk the things that this world values – security, reputation, comfort, material wealth – and instead seek His kingdom first; and yet I often miss it completely. I don’t curtail my “acceptable” sins, I don’t love like I should, I don’t  speak truth and love when it’s uncomfortable or might make me unpopular.

I’m so caught up in the way that this world works that I don’t take those risks or invoke those costs.

It’s like making that macaroni and cheese – I don’t follow the instructions (the Bible, God’s word), because I think I totally know what I’m doing. Yet if I’m part of God’s kingdom, I’m working from a different set of directions - my comfort and self-glorifying lifestyle are the wrong directions. God doesn’t want any sandy mac and cheese.

Am I willing to lay down my life for Him – whether that means packing it all up to go to some exotic place and spread the gospel, or whether it means living my life right here in a Christ-honoring, God-glorifying, totally not normal way?

Instead of feeling inadequate or insignificant that we aren’t totally abandoned to living for God’s glory in a far off mission field, let’s be totally abandoned to living for His glory here, in the life where He has called us!

Is God calling you to anything “risky” involves giving up your own comfort, glory and plan for His glory?

[Robin Bupp is married to Caleb, and they are from many places east of the Mississippi (but are calling Michigan home for the foreseeable future). A former high school science teacher, Robin is slowly turning the two Bupp kiddos into tiny nerds while they teach her lots of things, including humility and patience.]

Driving Like Jesus

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

As a young Christian, I wasn’t sure how to share my faith. At one point, I made a friend who went to the mall to “witness to people.” While I’m not sure exactly what her plan was, I had some confused feelings about the idea. I felt guilty, because I wasn’t out telling everyone I saw about Jesus and making disciples of all nations. But I also felt uncomfortable with the idea of interrupting strangers in the mall and trying to start a conversation about deep, personal, life changing faith. How do you even begin?! “I see you’ve purchased some items at Bath and Body Works – do you need something to clean up your soul, too?”

God calls each of us to uniquely, and He may not call me to start conversations with strangers, but we are all called to share His love and light with the world – with our world.

Growing up, my family had those metal Jesus fish on the backs of our cars (to let people know that we were Christians AND trendy). Upon purchase of my first car – a very awesome (very used) Jetta, my parents got me my very own fish…but I couldn’t bring myself to adhere it permanently to my trunk. As a bad-yet-very-aggressive driver, my road performance does not suggest that I love my neighbors, and I was aware of the hypocrisy of putting a symbol of my faith on a car I would drive like a heathen.

My love-less driving and lack of fish decals continued comfortably for many years; I shared that story and enjoyed people’s laughter. Driving is just one tiny sliver of my life, but my attitude about it was rather symbolic of other areas I’m less than proud of: I make excuses and justifications for actions and behaviors that are less than what God requires. It seems acceptable to get angry with the cable company, or to grow impatient in grocery store line when the person in front of me has questioned the price of five items before offering up four hundred coupons. Sometimes I judge people I don’t know based on superficial things and use that as an excuse not to get to know them, and I don’t like to call it gossip when I share important information about other people. Perhaps you excuse some behaviors too? (Don’t leave me here all alone!)

Maybe these routine, daily challenges are the very situations where God invites us to be salt and light, to be the aroma of Christ; to act in a way that sets us apart from an unbelieving world.

I was convicted about my driving (though not my lack of Jesus fish) one day when I ran into 1 Corinthians 10:31, “So whether you eat or drink or whatever you do, do it all for the glory of God.” I’m not sure why driving came to mind, but I did not drive to the glory of God. No one was ever going to lean over through an open car window in traffic and say, “You’re such a patient and generous driver – where do you find that kind of strength in this relentless traffic?” thus allowing me share about our gracious God. Is that a likely scenario? No. But it’s impossible if I drive like I hate everyone.

Do I live my life – especially the regular, routine parts – in a God-reflective, loving way that would make the people I meet ask, “Why is she like that? I wonder what she believes?” Are my actions an invitation for others to see God’s love and grace and desire it in their own lives?! Can my everyday life be set apart from others in the most mundane of moments in a way that is unavoidable to those around me? I want it to!  

“Live such good lives among the pagans that, though they accuse you of doing wrong, they may see your good deeds and glorify God on the day he visits.” (1 Peter 2:12)

[Robin Bupp is married to Caleb, and they are from many places east of the Mississippi (but are calling Michigan home for the foreseeable future). A former high school science teacher, Robin is slowly turning the two Bupp kiddos into tiny nerds while they teach her lots of things, including humility and patience.]

I < 3 Doubting Thomas

[The Midweek Encounter is a ministry of Encounter Church in Kentwood, MI. These posts are reflections on Sunday's message, which can be heard here each week: http://myencounterchurch.org/#/messages-media]

I’ve always felt kind of bad for “Doubting Thomas.” We don’t get many stories about him, and the one we do get is not very flattering. He gets picked on a bit, and you can almost hear the taunts.

“There goes Thomas, not believing what he can’t see…again.

“Oh Thomas, how could you NOT BELIEVE that a guy came back to life after he died? Pffft, get it together, Thomas.”

Sure, Thomas followed Jesus for several years and saw him perform all kinds of signs and wonders, but Jesus was dead now—how could he perform a miracle after he’s dead?

So I guess I feel bad for Thomas because I am him.

I didn’t follow the earthly, flesh-and-blood-and-sweating-and-eating-and-crying Jesus around for three years, but I have followed the heavenly-have-never-actually-seen-him-but-belive-he’s-there-in-all-his-slightly-confusing glory Jesus for a while now. And even still, I doubt him. I doubt he’ll show up, I doubt he’ll do what he said he would, I doubt he can truly love and forgive like he said he would—the all-encompassing, life-changing love.

So I get Thomas. We’d be pals, I think.

Jesus likely knew this about Thomas when he called Thomas to follow him. Maybe not in quite so specific terms, that Thomas would doubt he’d been raised from the dead and would need to be shown the nail holes and sword piercing, but Jesus probably knew there was something in Thomas that made it hard for him to believe.

But Jesus called him anyway. He called Thomas be one the chosen twelve, let Thomas follow him for three years, and invited Thomas sit at the table with him as he ate his last meal.

This sinner, this doubter—dining with Jesus, ultimately being sent out to carry his name to the world.

Because Jesus knew he could overcome all that. When he appeared to the disciples, Jesus didn’t tell Thomas that because of his doubt he was now excluded from the salvation Jesus had brought about. Jesus simply told Thomas to believe. Jesus showed Thomas, “I am God. I overcame death, and I can overcome any other barrier you try to set up between us.” His death tore a curtain in two, allowing the presence of God to spill out from that inner holy place all over the world. He ripped all the curtains, broke all the barriers that stand between us and him. Even doubters and sinners like me and you.

The Thomas in me so needs this reminder. Following Jesus can be so trying, so wearisome, so full of questions and doubts that it feels like we’ll never find our way back to him—and that even if we did, Jesus wouldn’t want us back. But he does. He wanted Thomas, the guy who doubted a miracle even after he had seen them for years, and he wants each of us, too.

It doesn’t matter how far away from him we’ve run or how looming our doubts have become. Jesus was willing to go to his death for us, and he’s willing to find us, meet us, and bring us back from wherever we are.


[Brianna DeWitt believes in Jesus, surrounding yourself with good people, and that desserts are best when they involve chocolate and peanut butter. You can read more of her musings on her own blog or follow her on Twitter @bwitt722.]

Amen! So be it!

I’ve been listening to this Matt Maher song a lot this week. In case you don’t have the time or inclination to listen to it, here are the lyrics:

I believe in the son

I believe in the risen one

I believe I overcome

By the power of his blood

Amen

Amen

I’m alive
I’m alive because he lives

Amen

Amen

Let my song join the one that never ends

Because he lives

I was dead in the grave

I was covered in sin and shame

I heard mercy call my name

He rolled the stone away

[Repeat chorus, chorus-y bridge, and then some more chorusing]

This simple song has been my prayer and my reflection during this Passion Week. Passion Week, or Holy Week, refers to the seven days from Palm Sunday to Easter Sunday. On Palm Sunday, Jesus enters into Jerusalem to shouts of “Hosanna!” On Maundy Thursday, Jesus celebrates the Passover with his disciples and is then betrayed and abandoned by them. On Good Friday, Jesus is paraded around Jerusalem to shouts of, “Crucify him!” And on Easter Sunday, Jesus the Christ rises victorious over the grave, having defeated death and all evil through his work on the cross.

I like the Matt Maher song because of the way the music builds, but also because I like the continued refrain of “Amen”. Loosely translated, “Amen” means “so be it”. There’s a lot of “so be it” during Holy Week.

Jesus enters Jerusalem amidst cries of “Hosanna! Save us!”

So be it.

Jesus breaks bread with his disciples and reveals what he and Judas already know: “One of you will betray me.”

So be it.

In the garden, after dinner, our Lord cries out in agony for another way, but it must be the cross.

So be it.

He is lead before the Sanhedrin, and the chief priests search for evidence against Jesus but can find none. So they spit on him and beat him. Out in the courtyard, Peter denies knowing Jesus. Peter disowns Jesus three times.

So be it.

Jesus is led before Pilate, who can find no reason to convict Jesus of any crimes. The crowds demand Jesus’ crucifixion. “Why?” Pilate asks. “What Crime has he committed?” The crowd’s response: “Crucify him!”

So be it.

From noon until three in the afternoon darkness covers the land. Christ, hanging on the cross, calls out to his father in a loud voice, “Eli, Eli, lema sabachthani?” which means, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” and then gives up his life. The temple curtain tears in two, the earth quakes, rocks dissolve, and tombs break open. The Roman soldiers guarding the cross understand now. In terror they exclaim, “Surely he was the Son of God!”

Amen.

I was dead in the grave. I was covered in sin and shame. I heard mercy call my name. He rolled the stone away.

Three days later, an angel comes down from heaven to earth in a violent earthquake to announce the rising of Christ as King of all Kings and Lord of all Lords. Christ’s tomb has broken open and our salvation is won. His death spares us from death’s defeat. His new life promises us new life; a new heaven and a new earth, the Kingdom of God realized anew. I’m alive. I’m alive because he lives. Let my song join the one that never ends. Amen.

Amen. 

[Kristin vanEyk lives in Kentwood, MI and attends Encounter Church. Learn more about Encounter or listen to Sunday's message here.]