Category Archives: God’s plans for us

Just say yes.

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The inference of being a “yes man” isn’t good, a person with no opinion of his own (at least not one he’s willing to share). It’s someone who gives in quickly and kowtows to others: “Yes sir. Yes ma’m. Whatever you say.”

Last week President Obama was looking for some yes-men in Congress. In a sound bite played repeatedly he said, “When is somebody on the other side of the aisle going to take ‘yes’ for an answer?”

We all love a “yes”. As my son Klaus puts it, “Green lights are better than red ones,” and generally that’s true. But the ultimate “yes” is the one we hope to get from God after laying out our requests. “Pleeease,” we say, then hope for a “yes” a.s.a.p.

But what about him? While he’s deciding to answer with a “yes” or “no”, is it possible he’s looking for a few yes-es from us in return? When he asks if we’re willing to do something difficult or fight a painful battle, do we tell him “yes” or “no”?

Henry Blackaby puts it well in his book EXPERIENCING PRAYER WITH JESUS: “Let this be your heart’s desire: ‘Lord, whatever you say, my answer is yes, because that’s the only worthy response to you’.” So we’re supposed to become yes-men? Yes-women?

As I read that statement from the comfort of my lazy-boy, feet up, Coke Zero in hand, I could say, “Whatever it is, Lord! I’ll say ‘yes’!”

But when Nate got rapid-growth pancreatic cancer and was told he had only a short time to live, it wasn’t quite as easy to give an affirmative response. Later, when he began failing and God asked if I was willing to be a widow, my response was far from affirmative: “Do I have to?”

In life’s battle-trenches, we feel we’re doing well for God if we go through trouble without raging at him. But the response he longs to see during our suffering (nearly impossible) is a strong “yes”, even if spoken through tears.

Despite my own failures, I think success is more likely if I keep telling the Lord I want to be a yes-woman for him.  If I’ve said the yes-word long before I’ve hit the suffering, then, when the pain begins, my will tries to follow the verbal commitment. It might only be “Yes, I’ll try,” or “Yes, I hope so,” but if my “yes” beats me to the trouble, one of these days I’ll do it right when I get there.

Jesus modeled it perfectly: “Not what I want, Father, but ‘yes’ to your will for me, no matter how excruciating.” And that’s the enthusiastic yes-response God hopes he’ll see in all of us.

“Yes, Lord, walking in the way of your laws, we wait for you; your name and renown are the desire of our hearts.” (Isaiah 26:8)

Endless Flow

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Little children love to be outside. Even a fussy newborn often quiets under an open sky or in a gentle breeze. These days we’ve been taking lots of walks with my young grandchildren, each outing more exciting than a well planned field trip. Preschoolers notice everything from tiny bugs to bits of gravel and beg to stop and watch, touch, discuss.

Today as Skylar, Micah, their parents and I ambled home from the playground, both children preferred walking to riding in the stroller, which slowed our pace considerably but invited us to look at the world from their point of view. Stopping in front of a small child-high fountain became a photo op as they studied the wonder of a never-ending water flow.

The little concrete girl was filling a tub with water from her jug, and we talked about why she might be doing that (maybe to bathe her baby). But it was puzzling that she couldn’t complete her task, because the water just kept coming. But as children so easily do, they accepted that this was the way it was for her, and on we went.

Our local Christian bookstore displays an attention-grabbing item, too: a 16 ounce pop bottle filled with dirty water. Dark particles float in it and sediment rests at the bottom. A sign explains this is the best water many people have. Among other things, they strain it for drinking, an appalling thought. No wonder disease runs rampant and people die young.

One of the ongoing humanitarian efforts of missionaries and others is to bring clean, drinkable water to people who’ve never had it. I think back to biblical days and wonder if the water then was any better than what’s in the plastic pop bottle at the bookstore. Quality water was like gold in biblical times, since that area of the world was (and is) mostly parched desert. Just reading through scriptural stories makes me want to head for the kitchen for a cool drink.

The Bible often uses water in powerful object lessons. One example is Jesus’ conversation with a woman at a community well where he referred to himself as the living water. Another was an Old Testament reference to God being the fountain of life. We also learn we’ll be drinking miraculous water in heaven one day.

The one thing these water images have in common is that they’ll never run dry. When earth’s water-resources have disappeared completely, streams of living water will be flowing still, into us, which means we’ll never go thirsty, not literally and not spiritually. Like the little concrete fountain Skylar and Micah appreciated this afternoon, the life-giving water available through divinity will keep running indefinitely.

The only difference between the fountain-girl pouring into a wash tub and God pouring into us is that her supply comes through a hose connected to a city water tank. And his? His comes from… well… him!

“You [O Lord] give [the children of men] to drink of the river of Your delights. For with You is the fountain of life.” (Psalm 36:8,9)

Need-Meeting

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No matter how many babies we added to our family, Nate’s daily office routine didn’t vary much. He left the house at 6:00 AM and walked back in at 7:00 pm, a long day (for both of us). But he was faithful never to be late coming home, almost to the minute.

My daily routine, on the other hand, was anything but consistent. One evening when I was especially frazzled, I asked Nate if he’d be willing to give me a gift. He answered carefully: “What might that be?”

“For you to stay home 30 minutes longer every morning so I can take a walk.”

I desperately needed alone-time to think, pray and gather courage for each day. The kids began waking around 6:00, so someone needed to be there.

Nate answered quickly. “OK, but I absolutely have to leave by 6:30 to get to my desk when I should.” His commute was a drive to the Metra station in the next suburb, a park-and-walk, a 45 minute train ride, then a 1½ mile walk to the other side of the Loop.

The next morning and every day after that for several years, I walked out the door at 5:45 AM and back in at 6:30. The few times I was late in returning, I’d pass Nate on the road. (He didn’t dare give me a schedule-inch, knowing I’d take a mile.)

Some days I hoofed it and covered a great distance. Others were more of a meander. If it was raining, I wore a hood and took my chances with the lightning. A foot of snow didn’t keep me home and neither did 22 degrees below zero. That 45 minutes meant everything.

Nate never reneged on his word and never complained about my rearranging his life. This impressed me, since I knew he didn’t understand the depth of my need. He did understand the walk was important to me, and because of that, it became important to him, and he sacrificed to make it happen.

Nate did a good job satisfying my need, but the #1 Need-Meeter is God. He watches us carefully, monitoring what’s important and what’s not. Then he sets to meeting what he considers to be a need.

The system doesn’t work, however, unless we agree to his definition and his way to handle it. We don’t always need to get into that college, get that specific job or marry that certain person. We don’t always need healing or even continued life on this earth. What we do need is unshakeable confidence that God’s assessment of what we need is flawless.

As our 7 children grew and the “baby” went to school, my need for the pre-dawn alone-time evaporated. Nate didn’t say, “Finally I can leave when I want!” He just said, “OK.” His definition of that gift would have been “30 minutes daily.” My definition was, “a sacrificial love willing to meet my need.”

In doing that, he’d imitated our loving, need-meeting God.

“Let your compassion [Lord], quickly meet our needs, for we are on the brink of despair.” (Psalm 79:8)