josh-parsons

There are certainly some truly mesmerizing things about Jesus. It makes my head spin. Actually, it makes my head hurt more than spin. But it’s a nice hurt. It hurts so good. Haha.

A question I’ve been asking Jesus lately is, “Why, if something is so good, can I not have it? Or, if something I see as perfect , why is it not always right?” Obviously, that question is answered easily by God replying, “I know better.” Even though it doesn’t help my predicament, it’s a good answer. I say touché to Jesus.

But what about this one, Lordy: “Why, if something is so good, will you risk me leaving and/or giving up on you, just to give me a little lesson in patience? Fine, hold out on me for a while, but at least give me a hint as to what the outcome will be, not even the full answer, but just a piece, so that I won’t get frustrated and throw in the proverbial towel. Why don’t you do that?” Sadly, He replies, “I know better. Put more succinctly, I know you better.” J.C.’s a quick one, I’ll tell you. I try pulling a fast one and he pulls one faster. I’m not real fast to begin with, so that doesn’t help.

Oh the vile plans of God! It drives me insane some days. Then I realize why it drives me insane; because I'm a power-hungry, impatient, don't-know-what's-good-for-me, stupid, nearsighted boy. To say again, He knows better. Truly.

I’m going to be real: I wrestle with God’s will. I do. It’s late at night, I’m walking through trees and things, and out comes God’s Plan. This Plan is gentle, but to my eyes seems to be wandering in some direction that I view as surely wrong. So I fight the Plan. I ditch the track and start walking in muck, mocking God’s wisdom with each step. Completely uncalled for, I know. I guess I can’t help myself sometimes. (Side note: Whenever this happens, I obviously end up in a place I don't want to. I'm always wrong when I run perpendicular to Jesus. Always).

The heart of this issue I’m dealing with is contentment. I used to have an issue with this word/state. I thought that if someone were content, it meant that they had given up something they had really wanted but never attained just for lack of energy, willpower, determination, etc. But contentment, I believe, really is something so much different. It has such a more positive spin. Contentment doesn’t imply failure; it implies hope and eagerness. When I am content, I am saying thus: “Ok, Jesus. I’m putting what I desperately want in your right hand. I can’t wait to see what you have in your left. And I’m ok when you choose to reveal it.” Sometimes Jesus pulls one of those cool magic tricks and, voila! What was in the right hand all of a sudden is in that left hand. But sometimes that thing in the right is never seen again, but the thing in the left far outshines it anyway.

The heart of contentment, and the heart of the Christian life is Trust. To a certain degree, contentment and trust are synonymous.

Let me bring to your attention a familiar story found in the gospels. “Without warning, a furious storm came up on the lake, so that the waves swept over the boat. But Jesus was sleeping. The disciples went and woke him, saying, ‘Lord, save us! We’re going to drown!’ He replied, ‘You of little faith, why are you so afraid?’ Then he got up and rebuked the winds and the waves, and it was completely calm.” (Matthew 8:23-26).

I want you to read the second to last sentence. Jesus didn’t stand up in the boat and say, “You’re right. What am I thinking? Hurry! Do all you can to save yourselves!” He simply said, “You of little faith, why are you so afraid?”

I also want you to read the words the disciples said: “Lord, save us! We’re going to drown!” If Jesus had my thought pattern, this is what it would be: “Pansies. Do you understand who you’re with?”

I’ve found that the Lord gives us situations and times for testing. Not like lab rats. But because He wants to see where our true love lies. If I really love and trust Jesus, what am I doing to show it? When waves crash and the wind howls, am I frantically gathering my posessions and making my own plans for escape, or staring wide-eyed at my Savior for the answer? “God, come on! Are you kidding? This kind of storm? This heavy of rain? It’s not what I signed up for. What are you thinking?” Funny thing about that last question: If you ask it, He’ll show you.

Why are we so afraid? Do we realize who we serve? It’s the Lord Jesus! Who has conquered everything but himself. Who has an endless reservoir of refreshing love and forgiveness, eager to let us not just take a drink, but to delve into, to fill our throats and lungs so that we become saturated.

We don’t give God the credit he deserves. He made the sun (Gen.1). He stopped the sun (Joshua 10). He made man (Gen. 1). He gave strength to man (Judges, I Sam. 17). He loves you. And me (Bible). He has the bird’s-eye view of our lives and sees the cliff beyond the fog and the oasis beyond the cliff. To be content in Jesus is to gently nestle our faces in the arms of His plan, knowing full well that we are following the strongest, smartest, best, love-crazed God around.

Touche, Jesus. Touche.