“Because they hated knowledge and did not choose the fear of the Lord, would have none of my counsel and despised all my reproof, therefore they shall eat the fruit of their way, and have their fill of their own devices” (Proverbs 1:29–31). “If your people won’t listen to the Bible, they won’t listen to you.” —Anonymous I’ve served in varying ministry capacities for a while now. It’s never been in the leading seat though. I’ve seen this play out from afar, watching my leaders navigate through peril and difficulty. Some were like seasoned sailors navigating stormy waters. Some capsized. Still others chugged along trying to get to greater health, greater strength, a more committed holiness, yet still a ways off. Of the healthier “captains” that I’ve served under at the healthier churches, they prioritized Scripture as their charted course and Jesus’ fame as their great North Star. I’ve sought to do that in my first year. Not perfectly executed, of course. First years are...
I've had armies of wise friends and pastors in my orbit. Great books have kept me company. Stories, proverbs, you name it. They have all been helpful. Sadly, the greatest tutor that I ever had is experience.
Not an experience that trumps revelation, mind you. Rather, an experience that pushes me back toward revelation:
Before I was afflicted I went astray, but now I keep your word (Psalm 119:67).
When the chaos of the broken cosmos smashes against my ego, vanity, and selfishness, there is something magnificent that happens. It is not like raindrops that fall upon the Himalayas, making small, indiscernible changes over large chains of time. It is a deluge, a force that commands my attention and immediately begins to erode those parts of my character that desperately need change. There is nothing on the planet like hard life.
It is not a bad thing to pray for relief, but sometimes we can miss the goodness that comes from hard. That God actually could have put hard in our way to make us into someone that is even closer to the Father, more faithful, more enduring.
It is good for me that I was afflicted, that I might learn your statutes (Psalm 119:71).
Instead of receiving what the Father has for me in the moment, along with the promise of change on the other side of hard, I find myself praying for God to take hard away. Forgetting that He works in—and even orchestrates—every circumstance. We'd never, ever say this out loud, but the tenor of our hearts might sound something like this:
"God, please remove this problem or situation from my life so that I do not have to talk to you, rely on you, follow you?"
It is not a prayer to experience him, nor is it a prayer necessarily for the pain to end. It is a prayer for the hard not to come back again. "Hard times come again no more." It is a prayer that begs for ease over knowing how we are loved, pursued, and kept in Christ.
Friend, I pray that the hard would come for you and me. So that we might be tethered to him whose Truth is better than "thousands of gold and silver pieces" (Psalm 119:72). It is better than ease and comfort. It is better than virtually everything you could align yourself to in this life. Why? Because of who gives their Word. Because of where real life and real comfort are found.
Do not ask merely for the pain to go away. Pray instead asking for the Father to bring relief, but not at the expense of missing out on him.
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