On Making Big Decisions

This is the time of year the upperclassmen at Small College are looking a little haunted. It's a look I recognize from the faces of Boys who have been across the breakfast table from me across the years. The look is part I'll-never-finish-that-project-by-Friday and part WHAT-AM-I-GOING-TO-DO-WITH-MY-LIFE?

It's a classic dilemma of the urgent versus the important. There's what has to be done now, immediately, and that in itself feels crushing. That's the urgent. But when you reach the end of a life stage (high school, college, kids-at-home motherhood, career) you also have the important decisions. What am I supposed to be doing next?

So how do you make these decisions? Even those of us who believe God has a plan for our lives struggle with this, but Jesus spoke to this issue in clear terms. The key verse that should govern our decision-making process is Matthew 6:33:

Seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be given to you.

Of course, Jesus is talking about making a living, saying that non-believers concentrate on this as the most important decision of their lives. How will they provide for themselves? How will they make enough money to buy food and clothing?

But in His "consider the lilies of the field" admonition, Christ says that the first questions should be "How will I serve God? Where will I find Him working in my life, and honor that?" Answers to all of your other life choices will fall in place when you concentrate on this, He says. The Message version of the New Testament puts it this way:

Steep your life in God-reality, God-initiative, God-provisions. Don’t worry about missing out. You’ll find all your everyday human concerns will be met.

What is your ministry? Where is the place God has designated where you can serve Him productively and joyfully? If you took the whole career issue out of the equation, what would the answer to these questions be?

When you figure that one out, everything else falls in place.

Why I Pray

Here's the thing about God: He knows everything.

He already knows that my mother-in-law is in pain and that I'm worried about her. He knows about my friend's children who are traveling and about today's Supreme Court deliberations. He knows about the drought, and that my young friends yearn to adopt.

So why am I praying about all of those things?

Do I believe if I shout loud enough God will say, "Wow! She really MEANS it! I'd better move those prayers to the top of the chain, and FOR SURE I'm going to have to give her exactly what she's asking for."

Or do I believe that if I have a concern and can recruit enough people to pray, by the sheer overwhelming number of votes I can cast for my side God will give me what I want? Do I think those folks who pray to win reality shows are doing God a favor by cuing Him in to the fact that they LOVE Him, so He should divinely intervene in the outcome of that show?

Well, no. I do not believe any of those things.

What I believe is that when I pray, it is not so God can hear me, it's so I can hear Him. It's the sacred time when He has my attention, on the subject I have chosen to bring to Him.

Sometimes He tells me to remember His character. That I can trust Him. That He's in control. That He loves me, and the person I've brought before Him, and He has our best interest at heart. That I need to chill the heck out and know He's a hands-on God whose fingerprints are all over the situation.

Other times He tells me to get busy being His hands and feet. Send a card. Take a meal. Hug. Babysit. Donate. Write a letter to an elected official. Give someone a cup of water to drink in His name.

But in all cases, He is sovereign. He does not need either my opinions or my advice, He only needs my attention.

I don't pray so I can tell God what to do; I pray so He can tell me what to do.

A Roadie for Jesus

My Bible study group is doing something unusual this spring: We're studying the Bible.

I know! What a wild and crazy concept! But this quarter, instead of working from a study guide that is someone else's interpretation of  the Christian life manual, we're reading through the New Testament together and pulling apart passages many of us know practically by heart.

It's astonishing how often we find a passage that, in spite of our familiarity with the words, seems to be something we never knew before. Last night, for example, we noted how Luke listed the group traveling with Jesus during His ministry. In addition to the apostles, Jesus is accompanied by Joanna, Susanna, Mary Magdalene, and several other women.We envisioned them cooking and cleaning for the entourage, sewing up worn clothes and making sure everyone was carrying a water bottle.

"Jesus had roadies!" R said. "I can be a roadie for Jesus!"

She laughed when she said it, and I'm sure she meant for us to laugh, too, because the thought of R as one of those muscular young men who set up venues for rock bands was laughable: She's in the mid-stage of a valiant battle against muscular dystrophy, and even cutting an apple for her lunch is a struggle.

But then I thought about what Jesus requires of those of us who are working for Him: To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with our God. He wants us to WALK with Him, and because what she can do physically has been limited by her disease, R's walk with God is constant and consuming but not physical. "We talk to each other all the time," she says. She is the person all of us think of first when we have a special prayer request and need someone to stand beside us.

That made me think of other Jesus roadies I know--the ones who deliver Meals on Wheels, the ones who write encouraging notes, the ones who lead singing or sit in the nursery so parents can attend worship. This is a mighty big concert, and it needs all kinds of workers.

We all can be roadies for Jesus.