“There are only two kinds of people in the end: those who say to God, ‘Thy will be done,’ and those to whom God says, in the end, ‘Thy will be done.'”
– C.S. Lewis
I have a hard enough time following God when I agree that His ways are best for me. My pride is at war with humility; my love is at odds with my fear. Though I agree love and humility are good things, I am human and I struggle. But it is an entirely different sort of “hard” when I feel that God is being unfair towards me, when I feel He is withholding or doesn’t truly have my best interests at heart. It is different when I don’t understand in any particular instance why my will and His cannot coincide. The confusion stirs up anger and bitterness. Why do I have such strong desires for more if He is all that I need? I’m discovering that . . .
it is much easier to follow God when we suppress the parts of ourselves that disagree with Him.
But God calls us to the hard task of bringing Him our hurting hearts with real God-given human longings and surrendering our past, present, and future to His goodness. Can I just say that I hate that? Well, I just did.
The tree of the knowledge of good and evil was smack dab in the middle of the garden. God certainly didn’t make it easy for Adam and Eve to ignore! He said, “Nope. Your choice to follow me must be deliberate. The tantalizing alternative must be in full view.” You know what? I bet the fruit of the tree of knowledge of good and evil tasted damn good. I bet it was the best-tasting fruit they had ever eaten (a mango, perhaps). And that’s where the feeling of unfairness hits, isn’t it? It seems as if God sets us up for failure.
The truth is, God does withhold good things from us, but only so that we can taste the best things, with full appreciation.
I am very angry at the sentence I just wrote. I don’t want the so-called “best” things. Best by whose standard? I know what I want and I want to be able to want the things that I want! So there!
None of us have always waited for the best. In our own unique, personal ways, we have eaten the fruit that God commanded us not to eat. But God doesn’t give up on us. Though we ruined our ability to fully appreciate His best, He redeemed it, and redeems it again and again, every day, every minute if necessary, imparting to us the righteous sacrifice of His Son.
Maybe God knew that only by tasting the forbidden lesser good and allowing His redemptive purposes to work could we truly appreciate the best good. Maybe He knew that wrestling was the only way to find rest. Maybe He knew that sacrificing Himself would be the only way to give abundant, eternal life.
Man . . . advent sucks.
Advent is humanity forced to stare at the good, and choosing to wait for the best. Advent is humanity biting into mangos, wanting so desperately to taste our will being done on earth (as it may or may not be done in heaven) because we know it will taste so good and right. Advent is humanity naked and ashamed. Advent is Christ, the eternal paradox.
On that note, here is a song I wrote.
“The Ones Who Wrestle”
Lindsey Snyder
You say you are enough
But I want more than you
I’ve wrestled for your blessing and
Been given bitter tears of truth
You show me glimpses of the end
But the road is so daunting and hard
What is the point of this winding path
That I keep stumbling on?
Will I have this limp
the rest of my days?
Why is suffering so long?
If you are the one that satisfies
Than why am I
still empty inside?
The name you gave me from the start:
“Hope” feels a cruel joke on this earth
I do what I don’t want
I want what I can’t have
Have what I need and yet I feel
All the lack
And maybe I’m a spoiled child
But please tell me that my pain is real
Who can save me from me
digging my own grave?
Only the one who suffered the whole world, to heal
Will I have this limp
the rest of my days?
Why is suffering so sure?
If you are the one that satisfies
Than why am I
still empty inside?
What good am I to you
If I cannot love the way you want me to
What good am I to you
If I cannot, I cannot love you?
What good am I to you
If I cannot love the way you want me to
What good am I to you
If I cannot, I cannot love you?
But that’s who you choose
The ones who wrestle you
