Tuesday, September 15, 2009


Well, Jeff and I and the boys will move soon. Very soon, actually. As in, I really should probably start packing.

But I'm not going to.


Because I don't know where we're going. God is keeping that little secret all to Himself for the time being.

My personality loves to have my ducks in a row. Right now, I can't even find all my ducks, much less line them up in rows.

I'm learning a lot about trusting God for the Great Unknown. It's good. Hard, but good. Oswald Chambers has been a big help. In the September 12 entry of My Utmost For His Highest, he says, basically, that if God hasn't answered my prayer yet, it's because He has bigger fish to fry.


I want to be the big fish. Fry me.

Of course, Oswald goes on, the next day, to discuss the surrender of my will. He says:

"It is only after we have begun to experience what salvation really means that we surrender our will to Jesus for rest. Whatever is causing us a sense of uncertainty is actually a call to our will -- 'Come to Me.' And it is a voluntary coming."

That's the one I'm struggling with. The first one. The basic one. I know it because I'm not resting.

At all.

Some days I think I'm peaceful, but really, I've just managed to stuff my emotions for a little while. I'm not coming to God voluntarily with my will.

The truth is I'm dang irritated that He hasn't, for some unfathomable reason, seen fit to tell Becky what her future is. I mean, doesn't He know who I am? I'm BECKY! I have a right to know what is coming up next in MY life... right?

Wrong. As Oswald goes on to point out. He quotes Matthew 16:24. "If anyone desires to come after Me, let him deny himself..."

Then Oswald says:

"The surrender here is of my self to Jesus, with His rest at the heart of my being. He says, 'If you want to be My disciple, you must give up your right to yourself to Me.' And once this is done, the remainder of your life will exhibit nothing but the evidence of this surrender, and you never need to be concerned again with what the future may hold for you. Whatever your circumstances may be, Jesus is totally sufficient."

Well, I sure ain't exhibiting evidence of that kind of surrender with my little attitude of irritation at God. Not concerned about what the future holds? Yeah. That's me. Right.

Jesus totally sufficient no matter my circumstances? My heart is crushed to realize just how insufficient it finds my Lord and Master.

God's rest at the heart of my being? Uh... what does that even look like, anyway?

Have I ever really surrendered anything? According to Oswald... not really. He explains:

"True surrender is not simply surrender of our external life but surrender of our will--and once that is done, surrender is complete. The greatest crisis we ever face is the surrender of our will. Yet God never forces a person's will into surrender, and He never begs. He patiently waits until that person willingly yields to Him. And once that battle has been fought, it never needs to be fought again. After you surrender, your entire life should be characterized by an eagerness to maintain unbroken fellowship and oneness with God."

Surrender my will once and then I never have to do it again? In what universe? Not this one. Is anyone's life really characterized by an eagerness to maintain unbroken fellowship and oneness with God? For a week, maybe. For a year on occasion. But someone's entire life? Where are these people? Taken up to heaven with whirlwinds to fuel their chariots of fire.

Or is the problem much simpler? Maybe I think it's impossible to surrender my will once and for all because... maybe I've never done it?

The notion that I may not have actually ever surrendered my will puts a whole new spin on God's choosing to withhold from me the location of our next home.

He does have bigger fish to fry. The street address is a given. He took care of it long ago. He's focusing, instead, on my heart.

I'm glad He is.

If the options are:

A) know my next street address, or

B) learn the peace of actual surrender by not knowing my next street address,

...I choose B.

Help me, Abba.