What is God’s will for my life? This is a question we should all ask, a question we should all want an answer to. What… who… when… where… the unknowns. And it’s that aspect of the indefinite that provides our lives with another special and exciting dimension. It’s an opening for trust. It’s the explanation of faith. It unfastens an opportunity for reveling in God’s revealed will, and anticipating the road… beyond the bend.
What does it really mean to desire God’s will above all else in our lives? In answer to this question I go back to what desiring God’s will really means in its essence. Before we can truly desire to know God’s will, we must abandon our own selves in faith. The essence of ‘desiring God’s will’ is ‘trusting Him’, regardless of what he reveals. For what would His will mean to us if he were one that we would doubt? Without trust, God’s will would mean absolutely nothing, because… the evidence of it is not seen. Sometimes I start imagining to myself how it would be if there were some cut and dried way of discovering God’s will. Some way that could be mapped out and given to everybody to follow. Some way where there would not be any questions, some way where we knew God’s will for our lives from the start. Something… that would make us all just as the Israelites again.
And that very facet was something I was observing the other evening. “The Israelites had everything they could ask for. They lived under the physical shadow of God. God dwelt with them physically. They had every evidence; they had every proof they needed, and yet they doubted God.” Until now it was something I simply couldn’t comprehend. They were given the privilege of witnessing God in tangible reality. They heard him, they felt him, and they took him for granted. “How could they?!” But the answer lies in one single statement. They had no faith. For faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen. (Heb 11:1) Regardless of whether we can see God or not, regardless of whether we know… how could we ever believe Him without placing our trust in Him? Why would we even be here today, desiring to know His will?
To truly desire God’s will, culminates in one word: trust. And then there are the two aspects of it… trusting to ask, and trusting the answer. And this is what the topic is, ‘knowing God’s will’. We all know how to ask questions. But when we ask them of God, we really desire an answer—or we should. But one thing that I have too often found myself doing, is putting my own stipulations and expectations on the answer. Most of us wouldn’t do that consciously, but are we asking God the question in total trust, willing to accept the answer, whatever it is? Asking God can only be done when we truly are ready to trust any answer He may give us. But this is where we all have questions. How can we be sure it is God speaking? I’ll be totally honest with you. I really am looking forwards to hearing what those who have more experience listening to His answers have to say. I have never experienced God’s voice more than once in the same way. Therefore I could not say, do this, do that, and get the answer. But an interesting excerpt from an article by Winkie Pratney fits here very well. Let me share it with you.
God has three answers in guidance – (1)”Yes” (2) “No” and (3) “Wait”. We cannot have a demanding attitude towards God. Sometimes there must be delays. Our lives are bound up with others, and many times God has to wait until they are ready (or until we are), before giving us the go-ahead. “Wait” is the most difficult of all answers, but sometimes it’s the most necessary. Here is the test of a love-slave. (Psalm 62:1,5, 33:20, 25:5, 27:14, 40:1, 130:5, 37:7; Isaiah 40:31, 49:23; Hosea 12:6; 1 Chron.28:9)
Reading this excerpt reminded me immediately of my parent’s testimony of God leading them together. The story… well, whoever decides to embark on listening to it is in for a late night—if you get what I mean. In other words, it really won’t fit on this page. But the Yes, No, and Wait were very real answers in that story. I know a lot of you will probably want to hear it now that I mentioned it, since this is a subject that we all face at one time or another, but for now I’ll just say this. “Wait can be the most difficult of all answers. But yet it can also be one of the most rewarding! Amen!”
But wait is only that if we are asked to wait. When we are delivered the command to move ahead, to step forwards, to do, to act, we cannot stand idle. This excerpt from a sermon by Charles Spurgeon strikes the question in a way that can only be done by such a man.
His will is done in heaven instantly, and without hesitation. We, I fear, are given to delays. We plead that we must look the thing round about. “Second thoughts are best,” we say, whereas the first thoughts of eager love are the prime production of our being. I would that we were obedient at all hazard, for therein lies the truest safety. Oh, to do what God bids us, as God bids us, on the spot, and at the moment! It is not ours to debate, but to perform. Let us dedicate ourselves as perfectly as Esther consecrated herself when she espoused the cause of her people, and said, “If I perish, I perish.” We must not consult with flesh and blood, or make a reserve for our own selfishness, but at once most vigorously follow the divine command.
Trust, obedience, action… this sums up the core of the topic. May we stand on our path, ready for instruction, ready to obey, ready to wait, ready to be, and ready to act. May we stand before our Lord without baggage, without terms, fully open to his guidance. Above all, may His will be done in our life… as it is in heaven.
Let us pray the Lord that we may do His will on earth as it is done in heaven; that is, joyfully, without the slightest weariness. When our hearts are right, it is a glad thing to serve God, though it be only to unloose the latchets of our Master’s shoes. To be employed by Jesus in service which will bring us no repute, but much reproach, should be our delight. If we were altogether as we should be, sorrow for Christ’s sake would be joy: ay, we should have joy right along, in dark nights as well as in bright days. Even as they are glad in heaven, with a felicity born of the presence of the Lord, so should we be glad, and find our strength in the joy of the Lord.—C. H. Spurgeon
The other day I stepped into the washroom where my younger sister had been occupied with cleaning out the cupboard. On the counter was a pile of old medicine bottles, toothbrushes, coins, lids, containers, and floss that looked like as old as I am. One dropper bottle caught my attention.
On it was my name. I haven’t had a prescription since I can remember, let alone been to the doctor on my account. I turned it around. Yes, there was the name of the doctor who had delivered me. It was a bottle of eye drops—17 years old.
It was pretty full, so I obviously hadn’t needed much. But I stood there for a little while… thinking. A comparison slowly curled itself into my mind, and then settled into a back corner to stay.
Would that prescription mean anything to me now? If I had an eye problem, could I pick that bottle up and use it, and would it work? Not likely.
What about in my spiritual life? Would the prescriptions the Lord gave me 5 years ago still work today? How about 1 year ago? Three days ago? Or should I be looking for old prescriptions at all?
When we experience God, we know that what he gave us works. But when we are in need again, do we go looking for the old bottle? Do we shake it upside down for another drop? Or do we set our eyes straight ahead of us, on our Savior, and ask Him, “Lord, I need YOU.”
I’ve seen it happen in other’s lives. I’ve felt the temptation myself. To look behind us for an answer is all too easy. It’s almost reasonable. It worked last time, why not now?
What we forget is that in our lives, it was not the prescription that healed us.
It was the Physician.
May we keep our focus ahead. May we not step back. Let us devote our heart, mind, soul, and body to our Creator. Let us find our life in Him.
There’s something particularly fulfilling in pulling up a weed by the roots. Standing there—or in some cases, after a quick depose to our seats, we may be found sitting—with the weed in hand, the root system dangling disappointedly at the bottom, there is a certain exhilaration that fills us. Even though it’s only nothing more than a simple weed, it pleases us to have at last removed it in a way we can be sure it will not appear again.
Then after many hours of work—depending on the size of our plot—we can stand back with an air of achievement and look at the garden, now free from unwanted plants, and they which remain stand free and strong, uninhibited by any others which needlessly drain the soil of its nutrients. With a flush of thankfulness our crops express their gratitude, and turn to the task of growing and bearing fruit.
For the most part, the task can be enjoyable. For the most part, the task can be appreciated. But there is a part that none of us appreciate. It is when somebody else comes along and stands there, pointing out weeds that we have missed, spots we have left, or plants we have broken, that we begin to feel inclined to respond slightly conceitedly. “I’ve been gardening for over ** years, do you think I didn’t see those weeds?!” “Get out of my hair and go look at your own garden! Your strawberry patch is full of weeds.” “I left that spot there on purpose, the weeds are too hard to get out, and there’s really nothing growing there anyways.” “So! That plant was spindly anyways; I’m allowed to pull out a couple in a garden this big.” So we reason on, missing the opportunity to make our garden even better yet. But do we respond any differently when the Lord reaches down his hand and taps us on the shoulder. “Do you see that weed there? It needs to come out, child.” “But God! I’ve already tried to do that half a dozen times and it just won’t come out.” “Would you like some help?” Ah… would we like some help? We at times feel dependant enough on our own few abilities to want be able to manage our own garden. We feel like responding and asking God if we can’t try it later after we’ve done the rest of the garden. Later, when we can try it again on our own.
Oh, how we tend to feel capable. All humanity has the bent to resist the offers of God, to resist his offers to wrap his hand around ours. “My strength is made perfect in weakness.” Who, oh man, are you, that you should reject the offers of greater strength? Nay, but that we may reach up and clasp his hands. That we may say, “Father, thy grace is sufficient for me. Your strength, not mine, will conquer.” Our strength will fail; our resolves will not stand. Only in the strength of Him who has born us again, of Him who hath made us heirs in His kingdom, can we expect to find strength, to find victory, to find safety.
The same atmosphere that nourishes our garden, the same rain that encourages the plants, the same wind the cools the earth, also brings with it more seeds, also nourishes more weeds. As long as our garden is on this earth, new seeds will fly in and take root. It takes work to keep our garden weed-free, it takes daily attention. And not only to the weeds, but also to our plants. Crops cannot survive without water, and in time of drought begin to shrivel, wilt, and die. But the weeds seem to stand up to any condition. They seem to thrive as well in the dry as in the wet. They are so much harder to uproot. In this condition, our garden suffers the greatest. But why do we find it necessary to leave them to dry? Why do we resign ourselves to despair? The river of life flows nearby. What must we do but go and dip in our pails and irrigate our suffering fruit.
Daily, continually, incessantly, we must water our garden. We must walk to the cool shade of the river, and draw from the flowing water. Draw for our garden, drink for ourselves. Daily we must meet with God, in tryst, to strengthen our souls, to obtain water for our thirsty plants—Existing off His word, hydrating from the living waters. Or as John Piper said, “Inhaling word, exhaling prayer.—This is the Christian life”
There’s a sacred and hallowed retreat,
Where my soul finds a fellowship sweet,
Where the Lord of my life I may meet,
In the garden of my heart.
In the cool of the day He walks with me,
In the rose bordered way He talks with me;
In love’s holy union,
And sacred communion,
In the garden of my heart.
There is naught can disturb or molest,
There my spirit finds comfort and rest,
And my soul is no longer distressed
In the garden of my heart.
Shut away from earth’s strife and its din,
And protected from soul staining sin,
For my Savior is dwelling within,
In the garden of my heart.
There the dove of sweet peace always sings,
And my faith ever trustingly clings;
And the chime of sweet happiness rings
In the garden of my heart.
It was almost precisely four years ago… the same boy, in the same room, was making a decision. Two ways were clearly set before me, set before me as the crossroads of my life. Which would I choose? Right or left? Up or down? I debated. Let me quote one paragraph which I read at that time, and that helped me to make the right decision.
You as a young man/woman stand in an awesome position. Your potential for success or failure is staggering. In the next few years, you will make decisions that have the potential to make your or break you. The effect of these decisions will follow you the rest of your life. You can’t afford to take the next few years lightly.
It put my choices into perspective, the importance of my decisions right now, as a teenager, are ones that will affect me for the rest of my life. Those words had a profound effect. Now, four years later as I near my 17th birthday, I reflect back on my choices, on the influencing factors of my life. I see the people, the authors, the things, the occurrences. I see God’s hand. When I stood here four years ago, looking out the window onto the bleak winter landscape, I was not ignorant that I was making an important decision. Now standing here again, with the snow swirling against my window and the full moon shining clear into the night, I look upon the same scene. Again, I realize how important that decision was, how important it was that I let God take my hand and lead me.
The effect of these decisions will follow you the rest of your life.
Those words have stuck with me since the time my eyes first fell upon them. At that point I made one choice, one particular decision. It was my choice to take the way that leads up—the hard way, yet the easy way. It was my choice to take God at His word, to make Him my all, my purpose in life.
My canoe was still brand new, still smelling of fresh varnish, I was going upstream. I had oars, strength, fresh resolve, solid goals. I would go on, I would conquer. My launch was right into some pretty rough water, and before too long I discovered how weak I really was. My strength was not sufficient. But His strength was there for me, I trusted Him to help me, to provide me with all I needed. And he did. In that strength I have made it thus far. And it is in that strength that we all can find joy in the Christian life.
In our own weaknesses we can rejoice along with Paul, because they give us opportunities to experience the power of God in our life. They are but empty flasks waiting to be filled. They are but candlesticks wherein Christ may set his light to shine. From our own infirmities, the Lord can mold and shape vessels fit for His service. His strength is made perfect in weakness; it is there that He finds place to do what he loves most—creating something out of nothing that the power of Christ may rest upon us. That we are weak we all know, but we know that we can say along with Paul, “for when I am weak, then am I strong”.
I won’t pretend to tell you my canoe trip was uneventful. I flipped my canoe many times. Yes, sometimes I let myself get swept downstream for a few moments, sometimes I fell on the shore in despair. But it was then that I realized that although I was weak, that although in my strength I could not go on, I would go on in the strength of Him who can keep our feet from stumbling. As my eyes lifted to the hills from whence came my help and my strength, I found where there was sufficiency, in trusting God to take me on. I could, I would sail on.
It’s easy enough to take our eyes off God and focus them on people. We naturally want approval from peers; most of us don’t have the desire to be the odd ball out. Although most of us are blessed to have human companions on the road traveling with us, every true Christian knows what it means to be going against the flow. Sometimes we struggle then with understanding the strength of our foundation. We wonder if God is really the answer to all we need. We wonder if we should have strength in other areas, we think that maybe with numbers we can do our work. No, I refute all else; strength is not in numbers, not in people, it’s in God. He wants to make our own individual lives tools in His service. He wants to use each of us, apart from what other’s do. He is all we need to be the majority, for when you add all with nothing what do you get? You still get all. When you add nothing with nothing you still have nothing. That’s why Jesus said, “For without me ye can do nothing.” Without him we are nothing. With him we have all we ever need, we have all comfort, all strength, and it’s in that strength that we can experience enjoyment; we can experience what the thrill is in the Christian life.
It’s that feeling of exhilaration, of making it safely through the rapids, over the mountains, or through the desert. It’s in knowing that you have gained ground, that you have followed God. In that we find fulfillment. It doesn’t compare with the most exciting ride downstream. To compromise what the Lord has asked of us because of ‘the flow’ or because of other people will never provide satisfaction. Why? It’s empty. It’s what so many people in this world are doing today, following others, following themselves, following their flesh. Those who enjoy their ride down the river can have it; they’ll go over the falls at the end. How much more I’d rather be able to say at the end of my life, “I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I have kept the faith:”
His yoke is easy, His burden is light, not because we don’t need to do anything, not because it’ll be a cheap, quick ride. Not because of any of that, but because his strength and his grace is sufficient for me, and for you. Thus we can look at our difficulties, our mountains, our waves, our trials, our weaknesses. We can look at them, not as things to sigh about, but as opportunities to experience God’s all sufficient strength in our life. We can do hard things, not by our great strength, but rather by our Great God.
I look back again, I see the river stretching into the past, I see the rapids I’ve gone through, the calm spots, the hard spots. I see where I have come. I am glad, glad beyond measure that I put my faith in God. Come what may, I know there is nothing that will stand in His way. Through Him I have all the strength I need to take on the hardest tasks.
I think ahead now, another four years. I can only imagine what decisions they will bring. I will do hard things, for though I am weak, I am strong. I put my all into His service. Could there be somebody standing at the crossroads in their life? Could it be that you are trying to decide on the route to take? Could it be your day? Don’t spare yourself what appears to be difficulties; they are but experiences of God’s power. Take the path that leads up; not because it’s easy, but because it’s hard, because it’s the only way that has strength. There’s a race to be run, a crown to be won, a world to overcome.
“The Christian ideal has not been tried and found wanting; it has been found hard and left untried.”—G.K. Chesterton
Why should we now stand afraid of tasks that appear hard, that appear difficult? How many people have accomplished the most grueling and challenging feats? Many people have put themselves into doing something difficult, something for the thrill. They work to a goal that would fulfill them and make them accomplished. They have done things without strength from above. How much more should you and I, who have unlimited strength, take what appears to our human eyes to be difficult, and do that, not because it’s easy, but because it’s hard. The Lord will use us, if we but give our empty vessels for Him to fill with His glory, His honor, and His strength. We have nothing to offer, nothing but our blank sheet of paper for Him to write upon, nothing but our heart and our purpose. We are unqualified, but God does not choose the qualified, he takes us for what we are, nothing, and asks us to put our faith in His ability to make us what he wants us to be—all. Let us render ourselves tools in His hands, wavering not at the highest mountains or the hardest tasks the Lord places before us. This we know, we are weak, but now we are strong.
In my opinion that is one of the most menacing comments which can be uttered. There seems to be some type of satisfaction in informing the speaker of what is obvious to any human mind. I am not innocent of the charge, as most of us. But what are the reasons that we bring ourselves down so far?
This statement usually stems only where, a) there is disagreement, b) one side has no more questions/answers, c) our cherished understandings are being challenged. The reason we say it is because we fear that the opponent does not fully understand the importance of that fact. It generally surfaces only where we feel the other is stating for facts what appears to us to be his opinion. But what impact does such a revelation have?
First of all, the speaker believes what he is saying to be fact, but is not ignorant of the actuality that he arrived there by his reasoning. You on the other hand, may not believe what he is saying to be a fact, but you are also not ignorant that he arrived there by his reasoning. You both have the last in common. According to the dictionary, an opinion is: “A belief or conclusion held with confidence but not substantiated by positive knowledge or proof.” Therefore we can rightly conclude that an opinion is a belief which we have not been convinced of, because of the lack of positive knowledge or proof.
But there is a great problem with requesting the speaker to acknowledge that their view is an opinion. In fact it is fatal to any progress. We are asking the speaker to do what they cannot do, we are asking them demote this issue in their mind to a level from which we can discard it. We are asking them to put aside all the facts and proof for this understanding, simply because we cannot see it. We would feel so much more comfortable to hear, “In my opinion,” because, we could then discard the import of the message. Why? Because we then know that not only we, but also our contestant does not have sufficient facts for this understanding. It is somewhat of an encouragement in our choice to reject it. But this stems from only one thing—our dependence on another’s opinion.
Yes, in doing what we thought was rejecting opinion we have brought our self to succumb to the very thing we were fighting against. We have shown our dependence on the security of another’s understanding. We now feel safe, because another has agreed with us that yes, this is just an opinion; it is not supported. Therefore we have shown that the real reason is that we are insecure ourselves.
If we were not dependent on public opinion for what we believe, then we would not have the desire to inform others of this. We would collect the facts that we have been given, and draw a conclusion from them. We can come to the conclusion that their view is only an opinion, unsupported by positive evidence. We can try to bring some of our own questions into the picture to show the other person that they do not have all the answers. But to acknowledge what we are asking them to would deliver a lethal injection to the argument.
We have no business worrying about whether the person speaking has understood that he does not have all the facts. If we do, then we have lowered ourselves, we have showed our insecurity, we have shown that we are down and out, that we have lost without question.
As the speaker we have full responsibility to acknowledge that what we are saying is only an opinion if we do not have it fully supported by positive data. If we do have such a foundation though, we should not say it, but rather deliver the evidence which we have collected to the mind of our listener to decide for himself.
When we are asked to bring our understanding down to this level, we can reply that they have the full privilege to view it as such, but as for ourselves, we cannot until it has properly entered the definition of “opinion” in our minds.
The moment we begin to fear the opinions of others and hesitate to tell the truth that is in us, and from motives of policy are silent when we should speak, the divine floods of light and life no longer flow into our souls.—Elizabeth Cady Stanton
We all thrive on companionship. God created us that way on purpose. He made it that way from the very beginning; humanity was to have His companionship always, we were to walk with God, and we were to have human companionship. ‘Together’ was the word of the day.
Just like a flock of birds lifting off into the air, leaving behind them silence. Just like a blizzard suddenly closing off the outside world, man forfeited his relationship with God. What for lonesomeness! Man knew his need for God. He was still there, wanting us to trust Him, but years passes, centuries passed, millenniums passed—and we forgot all about it. We were left only with humanity. Sore, sin-sick humanity. God wanted us to know Him. He tried to remind mankind of His love; he has been trying ever since. Solomon knew the great need for companionship. In the greatest sermon ever written we read his explanation of the need for friendship, companionship, togetherness. That which has been sorely lacking since man forgot about God.
“Two are better than one;”
Man was not meant to be alone. Companionship is the greatest source of strength. In companionship is where we find help, encouragement, and accomplishment. It’s where have support and warmth. It’s where we can grow and learn. Alone, we are weakened, we are useless. We labor hard, we throw ourselves into our work, but the night comes, it begins to rain, and our harvest is not yet in. We have had no help, we have had no encouragement. We feel alone—because we are alone.
“because they have a good reward for their labour.”
There’s a reason why ‘teamwork’ is so heavily encouraged by employers. What one person cannot accomplish alone can be done by a group of people working towards the same goal. We can bring in the harvest before the rain. We can finish the barn before the winter. We can reach our goals. We have a good reward for our labor together. But alone, we have no reward, we cannot accomplish our goals. We fill our stomachs with chaff. We watch our buildings crumble—because we’re alone.
“For if they fall, the one will lift up his fellow: but woe to him that is alone when he falleth; for he hath not another to help him up.”
Encouragement, help… This is what we really want in a friend; somebody to help us up when we’re down, to strengthen us when we’re weak, and to lift us up. And sometimes we’re privileged with friends like that. When we’re not, we begin to feel the effects of marching alone. We stumble, but there is no-one to keep us from falling. We fall, but there is no-one to help us up—because we’re alone.
“Again if two lie together, then they have heat: but how can one be warm alone?”
This is what loneliness is. It’s the beginning of a chill, we curl into a ball, we try to find warmth, but “how can one be warm alone?” When we’re the only companion we have… What good are we? We lay down, but we cannot sleep. We’re cold, but there’s nobody to keep us warm. We get up and exercise, but the efforts are futile. We shiver; we shake—because we’re alone.
“And if one prevail against him, two shall withstand him;”
We reach the battle field, alone. What good are we? We are weakened already, we are cold, we are sore, and we are alone. How can we expect to win the battle? We draw our sword, but alone we fall. There is nobody to bandage our wounds. There is nobody to care. What good have we done? We have marched alone, we have worked alone, we have fallen alone, we have slept alone, we have shivered alone, we have fought alone, and we have lost alone. Our efforts have been in vain, they have been useless, futile, wasted. We crawl home—alone.
What then was the secret of Joseph, of Daniel, of Moses? How did they manage to survive alone? Or were they alone? How did they work alone, and reach their goal? Who steadied them when they stumbled? Who helped them up when they fell? Where did they find warmth to survive? How did they conquer alone? Or were they alone?
“Did not we cast three men bound into the midst of the fire? They answered and said unto the king, True, O king. He answered and said, Lo, I see four men loose, walking in the midst of the fire, and they have no hurt; and the form of the fourth is like the Son of God.” Dan 3:24
Were they alone? They should have been. The king thought they were. He thought they would fall. But they didn’t. What was the secret?
Do not follow where the path may lead. Go instead where there is no path and leave a trail.
There are varied opinions on who this quote is of, but home-schooling is just one positive result in walking the road not taken. It has always been around, but the home education revival has in the last 30 years spread like wildfire.
Public school had become a freeway. It was time for a re-orientation of what education really meant. Families knew that something had to change, but a lot of them didn’t know how. But when home-schooling began to grow, it came as water to the thirsty Christian families who were looking for a better way.
I’m a result of that.
And because of that, home-schooling has always been a system I have full-heartedly supported, defended, and—of course—practiced. You ask me why.
The experience of being educated at home was timeless. Although none of us are doing anything spectacular like finishing high-school 3 years early, we have the privilege of enjoying one factor, ‘family’. We don’t go out to school and spend all day there, and then come back to homework. We finish our school and have the rest of the day to learn things not found in books—or in public school.
People say, “You have to face the real world at one time or another.” Unfortunately it’s said in the wrong way. We are growing up in the real world. We’re growing up knowing where our world is, and where the world is. We know the difference. I’ve had people tell me I’m sheltered. To a degree they’re right. To a degree they’re not. They’re right in that I am not washed, exposed, and treated by the elements of sin so prevalent in the world. They’re wrong in assuming I’m going to have a culture shock when I step out the door. Nothing surprises a home-schooler. We’ve been balanced and stabilized at home; we’re prepared to travel the Real-Life Rd. that’s ahead of us.
What if my parents hadn’t home-schooled us?
That’s a question I’ve thought of before. I know people who’ve been public schooled and have come out alright. In fact, that’s likely your case. But if I know myself well enough, my world-view would be entirely different. But I don’t want to dwell on the aspects of ‘if’. I simply want to take the opportunity to thank God for leading my parents to bring us (6 children) up outside of the city, worldly influence, television, and public school (all of which were things they had grown up with). I can only look back and say how thankful I am for the opportunity to have a family. As I look around today and see the number of families that are broken up, disunited, split, and unhappy, and I see the children who are suffering from the effects of this evil—and I look at our family and I see, simply spoken, a lot to be thankful for. If you haven’t been home-schooled, I’m not saying you’re life has been greatly detrimentally affected by it. But I do say that you have missed an experience.
I know that many of you reading (this was written for my email magazine with a very broad subscribership) have not been home-schooled and have grown up in the city, and have had a great family life. I don’t contend. When our parents place God and their family first in life, it may not result in a home education, but it’s resulted in things we’re glad we didn’t miss out on—because God’s way is the best way. In my case it was a home education, and that is something that has bonded family ties all over the world—because of one thing, ‘home’. It has long been known that the home is building block of society; it has long been known that when home fails, society fails. America is seeing a revolution because ‘home’ is taking the priority in many more families’ lives.
One day, before my father was married, he was on a flight. When the flight attendant came around with the meals, the man sitting next to him refused his meal. During the course of later conversation, my someday-to-be-dad asked him why he didn’t eat. His response:
I’m a Satanist and today is a high day in our religion. I’m fasting for the breakup of families.
After asking a couple more questions, my father retreated into stunned silence. This man was a Satanist. His staggering answer stuck with my dad. Was he going to succumb to the efforts of Satan to break up families? Was his family going to fall into the same trap? Thank God it was not.
I know it’s almost a little dangerous to attribute where I am in life to the fact that I was home-schooled, but I want to focus for just a moment on an interesting aspect of every individual. It’s called attitude. I give myself the privilege of saying that home-schooling creates a very unique attitude in those who are products of it. We are different, but we’re better for it. That attitude is worth keeping.
With these thoughts in review, it’s quite easy to see that I fully intend on continuing the trend if the Lord should bless me with a family someday. The path has been now well trodden, my experience on it has been excellent, I have no regrets.
How many of us have asked ourselves this question? How many of us have wondered on the course of the vessel we’re sailing? How many of us have asked this question that searches to the very depths of our heart, looking, seeking, wanting an answer more than anything besides? If you have ever been hunting for something, and have come back with one of those looks on your face akin to despair you somewhat understand the feeling of frustration which now accompanies this question. It is a question I had asked myself, it is a question I could never answer myself, a question that produced only uncertainty, because I was asking the wrong person.
Asking the wrong person… So many times this is the very root of our problems. God is standing there, waiting for us, waiting for us to ask Him, to seek his face. He who has infinite knowledge, He who has the answer to all of our questions, is right there before us. Ask Him! “Lord, what is thy purpose in my life?” Aha! Now we are asking the right Person, now we are looking in the right place. But now, are we looking for the right answer? Are we asking God for a blueprint of our lives? Hardly! That would take all the fun out of the Christian experience! Just imagine, just for a moment, try to imagine, that you know all what God’s plan is for your life. You would never need to talk to Him again!! Oh no, we could never do that, it would spoil everything completely. Rather, what we need to do is to let Him lead us, to let Him take our hand; to trust that we don’t need to worry at all about what we’re going to do. God has one plan for all of us that you and I can grasp right now, and that is to trustingly follow Him.
This is one thing that people commonly seem to have a problem with. “Follow Him?!? You mean I can’t plan my own life? No thanks man.” But… here is where the biggest mistake of all is made, an assuming that God is going to do something scary, a fear of the unknown. Really, if you have these same heart tremors I’m not surprised at all. It is something that we all experience when we aren’t quite sure we want to give up our own will. But just stop here for a moment and let reason conquer the unreasonable. How much do we see? What do we know compared to God? We have plans for our life. God has a plan for our life. Who has the better? What if you want to be a plumber or a police officer or the president? We all have dreams like that, we all want to be someone or do something, and God knows all that. Yes, He knows our deepest heart longings, yet greater still He knows what is best. God created each of us as personal individuals, he knows. And if God really and truly does know, we can trust Him with our lives!
Trust… this is the alternative to fear. Now we are left with what it has all boiled down to, fear or faith. In fact at this moment I think it would almost fit to put the typo I just made, which is, ‘fear of faith’. You know, even though both of those words have an uncanny poetic similarity to each other, there is so stark of a contrast between the two that not even the illustration of black vs. white would do justice to the difference. Fear or Faith, one gives us a lifetime of stress, worry and sorrow; the other gives us an eternity of peace. On paper the difference is so clear, but in our hearts we are so often tempted to fear. Why? The Prince of fear… that depraved serpent, who instilled his likeness in Adam and Eve, is the answer. By that fallen nature we are filled with fear. Since the beginning of sin, fear has filled the universe. It has been placed in every living creature. Only He who is “perfect love” can cast out all fear. Only when He dwells within us can all fear be cast out. Satan will try to fill us with fear; he will try to muddle our minds. There is not a doubt about it. But when we are filled with fear, we know exactly where to go to find peace. Fear can only last as long as it takes for us to fall to our knees, only as long as it takes to trust God. Fear entered the world at the beginning, and it will remain until it is overcome by faith.
Here we are… making choices, choices that will affect us throughout our life. We have the opportunity to place our ship under the guidance of our Savior. We have the opportunity now, to let God lead us, to trust Him that He knows this ocean and that He has traversed the waters before us. We have this opportunity, this wonderful opportunity! Come along with me and let us let Him guide our ships, not only on the tempest, not only on the starless nights, but even when we are sure we know the way. In fact, that is the time when we need Him most. There is something that seems to happen a lot to those excellent navigators, when they are sure of the way, when they are positive about their position. Something happens, and they lose the way. Lost in the deep… we see so many of these young pilots today, sailing their ships hither and yon, hunting, searching for a landmark, trying to find their way, asking themselves, asking the wrong person. They are being blown closer and closer to the reef, their veins bulge, their muscles are sore, their sails are tattered, but their mouths remain silent. Daily, ships are smashed to pieces on the rocks, daily captains lose their lives.
“Oh Lord! Use me! Use my ship; use my ship to guide some weary pilots who have lost their way, help me guide them to Thee.”
David Boskovic -- eighteen, Canadian, Conservative, and sibling to 5 -- writes a practical
mix of journalism, commentary, theology, and inspiration from the perspective of a
Biblical worldview and a homeschooled education. Here at Oneway Purpose he tackles life,
culture, and purpose, taking to task many of the problems that this generation is facing
on the front lines in the battles of the Christian life.
But the Yes, No, and Wait were very real answers in that story. I know a lot of you will probably want to hear it now that I mentioned it, since this is a subject that we all face at one time or another, but for now I’ll just say this. “Wait can be the most difficult of all answers. But yet it can also be one of the most rewarding! Amen!”
