The Best, Hardest Thing to Do...

Submission is a damnable word in our modern, American world. The weaker dog rolling over in the presence of the dominant one. Out-dated views of women's roles come to mind. To submit has come to mean giving in, losing, weakness, denigration, and inequality.

(This is not a thesis on marriage. Just a disclaimer. Apply where needed.)


Of the many prayers sprinkled throughout the Bible, one that hits me powerfully is, "Not my will, but yours be done."

It's uttered by Jesus in the garden of Gethsemane on the night of his betrayal. On the morrow he will face the cross. He knows exactly what the Father is asking of him, is familiar with the words of Isaiah: "Yet it was the Lord's will to crush him and cause him to suffer." He knows that the cup he must drink is that of God's wrath. He will face the judgment in our place.

Jesus' sojourn on earth is one of entire submission. In Philippians, it says that he emptied himself,  hollowing out his glory, power and beauty, and subjecting himself to the limits of humanity.  While walking on earth,  he did only the Father's will, unified in purpose and understanding. He allowed his Father to direct him; trusting him, loving him, believing that the will of the Father was the best possible way. The way of the Father has lead him to this terrible night.

When Jesus says, "Not my will, but yours be done," in dark Gethsemane, perhaps he is recalling another ancient garden, where the phrase was, "Not your will, but mine be done," and the fruit was plucked from the tree.

Refusal to submit to God's authority is at the root of our brokenness.  "You will be like God... " It is still our biggest problem. I see it in myself all the time. I don't believe that God will do what is best. I don't believe he can. I trust my own judgments over the ones written in his Word.  I hold up my feelings, thoughts, circumstances, and desires as the absolute and determine for myself what is good and evil.


Imbedded in this insubordination is a lie. It's a lie about God's nature. The serpent said to Eve, "God knows that if you eat this fruit you will be like him," and he didn't tell you because he wants to dominate you. He's power hungry. He likes to hold back blessing from your life. He doesn't want you to be happy. He really is powerless, and doesn't want you to know. He is not good. He does not love you. He's really out to make you miserable, setting up rules to watch you break them.


The lie was spoken, the trust of God wavered and caved, and centuries later, the second Adam stands in the garden, submitting to death so that we can be set free from the evil we brought on ourselves.

"Not my will, but yours be done." Jesus is trusting his Father. In the face of a terrible torture and death, knowing that all the weight of a broken world will fall on him in a short while, he is trusting that his Father will make it good. And through that submission, Jesus saves the world from sin.

I want his prayer to be my prayer. I want to submit to his authority in my life. I may not fully understand why he puts the boundaries up. He might lead me through some strange or sad places, but I believe that he does it for my good, and he will bring good from it.
I know he is good.
"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. In all your ways acknowledge him, and he will make straight your paths." Proverbs 3:5-6

It creeps up and bites you...

My husband and I are embarking on the confusing journey of infertility. I think I always took this creation gift for granted. I come from a big family and have prolific sisters, and yet here we are...

We both have some pretty sad days, laden with longing and loss.  Yet hope is alive in us. After all, if God can give a child to a woman in her nineties, he can make things work in our bodies.

But there is a very ugly side to all of this.  Blame for a start. Is it me? Is it him? Which one of us is broken? If we had married sooner maybe this wouldn't be happening. If you married someone else perhaps you'd have children, but now your stuck with me...
These thoughts flit through the mind, but at least they don't stay long.  I know we are a team. The two have become one for better or for worse.

But where blame leaves off, shame steps in. The neighbor woman who shares our alley is carrying her third child.  I often wonder what she thinks of this couple with a roomy house, the wife refinishing furniture on the back porch. Perhaps I look too selfish to want children. I think of all the mothers around me, imagine pity and judgment in their expressions. Here I am, a failure at the most basic of womanly roles.

This leads to self recrimination. What did we do wrong to be punished this way? My husband reaches into his past and pulls out his mistakes.  This is the reason, he thinks. Because of this thing I did, now we both are suffering.  And then I counter, No, my sin is the reason. If I had only done this better...

All lies. The enemy of our souls mixes them thick. He feeds us the lines and we play them out.  Graciously, God always intervenes. He's taught me the truth so I can fight back.

He will use all things for the good of those who love him. There is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus. The old has gone the new has come.  Nothing is impossible for God. Man looks at the outward appearance, but God looks at the heart....

But this leads to the ugliest of revelations within me. This is the one that creeps up and bites me. I turn on God and point the finger. "Lord! I did it right. WE did it right. We have been in ministry. We've preached the gospel, tried to live good lives. We were chaste, virgins when we married. We followed the rules... and this is what we get!"

And there it is. So ugly. I'm reenacting the role of the older brother in the old parable. That parable about love for prodigals. Love without conditions.

Did I just live that way, do those things so that I'd get rewarded?

I believe this ugliness creeps into a lot of Christians lives.  A friend of mine wanted to be married by a certain age, and gave God an ultimatum. He didn't meet the demand and she rejected his way. Another served in Christian missions for years. In her burnt-out aftermath, the phrase was, "I did so much for you, when do I get mine?" 

I point the finger and join the team of the accuser. I turn the love affair with God into a bartering system. I trade love for manipulation.  And worst of all, I start making demands as if God owes me something.

He came for me while I was still hating him. He wooed me while I was stubborn and stupid. His love makes me lovable. In all things I am receiving: every breath, every perfect gift, every taste of freedom. Any good thing I have ever done is because God has made it good in me... so how can I possibly stand on the claim of fairness and rights?

God help me to love you because you are worthy and holy and true. Purify my jaded heart.  I reject these lies. I reject the barter.  No, my life choices were not to garner favors. I loved you then and love you now. You never promised it would be easy. I want you to be the deepest desire of my heart.  I refuse to leave you because life takes these unexpected, unwanted turns.

 Whom have I in heaven but you?
   And there is nothing on earth that I desire besides you.
My flesh and my heart may fail,
   but God is the strength of my heart and my portion forever. 
Psalm 73:25-26

Make it true.