How to Obey God

Untied

My 6-year-old daughter, Lindsey, loves monkeys. A couple years ago, she decided she liked a particular monkey, and her affection quickly grew into a liking for all monkeys, everywhere. So when she needed new sneakers not that long ago, she—of course—chose a pair with monkeys.

The only problem was that this pair was made to be fastened with laces instead of Velcro, and Lindsey didn’t know how to tie her shoes. That is, she had learned how to make the bunny go around the tree, but she wasn’t experienced at it. I didn’t want to buy her a pair of shoes that would require my tying them for her every time we had to go somewhere. So I told her I would buy her the shoes if she would practice tying them herself.

Lindsey agreed and became the proud owner of new monkey sneakers. True to her word, she tied her own shoelaces without complaint each time it was necessary. She’s gotten pretty good at it, too, though the laces keep coming untied, especially on her right foot. Usually, Lindsey doesn’t care. She’s perfectly happy to run around with the long laces dragging the ground. She willingly ties them if I tell her to, but for the most part, she doesn’t notice they’re not arranged in nice, neat bows anymore.

Sometimes, I get nervous. What if she trips? I can just imagine poor, sweet Lindsey with her hands, knees, and chin scraped, all because she tripped over her untied shoelaces. So I tell her to tie her shoes, not because I’m trying to mess up her fun, but because I’m trying to keep her from danger.

It’s the same thing God does for us.

Often, we’re content to go through life not noticing whether or not both shoes are tied. Or, worse yet, we know one shoe’s untied, but we don’t bother to do anything about it. Either we’re oblivious to the potential danger, or we simply don’t care. Either way, we run the risk of tripping and falling and perhaps scraping ourselves badly.

God understands the danger of untied shoelaces—of parts of our lives not being properly controlled. That’s why He gives us all kinds of warnings not to let our shoes become untied. If we fail in our preventive efforts, He’s willing to tell us exactly what to do in order to tie them up again.

The problem is that sometimes, we don’t want to listen. Maybe we’d don’t want to take the time and effort to correct the problem. Or maybe we don’t believe God that we’re in danger. Either way, we ignore His warnings and prescriptions and go blithely about our business, little knowing or caring that we’re in danger.

Is there some shoe in your life that’s untied right now? Are you running the risk of being tripped up? If you don’t think so, ask God to help you examine your shoes so you can be sure. If you know that one is untied, repent and do what He’s told you to do about it. If you’re not sure what to do, ask Him.

Usually, the consequences of tripping over actual shoelaces aren’t that big a deal. If Lindsey does trip, a few scrapes are the worst things she’ll probably face. In life, the consequences can be much greater.

Don’t suffer consequences you could avoid. Don’t trip over something that could separate you from God or your family. Don’t let an untied shoe move from a potential to an actual tragedy in your life.

Instead, do the right thing. Do what I’d tell Lindsey to do, out of love and concern for her. Check your shoes.

1 Corinthians 10:12—Therefore let anyone who thinks that [she] stands take heed lest [she] fall.

Following Your Training

My son Kenny likes to earn extra money toward whatever he is saving up for at the time. He also likes earning extra media time (since we limit the kids’ “free” media time). Fortunately for him, he is willing to work in order to do this. So when he wants money or minutes, he comes to me or my husband and asks for extra chores to do.

This particular time, Kenny accepted the chore of taking out the trash. He tied the old bag and took it outside to the garbage bin. Then he put a new bag in the inside bin and stretched the top of the bag around the top of the bin, as my husband had showed him how to do the previous time.

Proudly, he showed off the results. “Look! I did it!” he exclaimed.

“Great job, Kenny,” my husband said.

Kenny said matter-of-factly, “I was just following your training.”

It really is as simple as that. Daddy trains you, you follow his training, and you have success. I’m not talking about trash bags alone, but about everything in life. And I’m not talking about our earthly daddy, but our heavenly one.

God has provided plenty of clear training for us in the Bible. Love God more than anyone or anything else, and love the people around you as much as you love yourself.
That pretty much covers it, He says. But then He gives us more specifics. Honor your parents. Don’t steal. Go the extra mile. Be willing to serve.

Unfortunately, we often don’t take His instructions seriously. We know we should follow them, but when life crops up, we act like we believe our own strategies will bring us better success and more satisfaction than God’s. Why on earth we would ever think this is not reasonable or rational, but we do. I do. Maybe you have too. When circumstances get difficult, we jettison our training and go our own way, little realizing that difficult moments are perhaps when we most need to follow our training. In fact, it was designed to help us navigate those difficult moments.

Do we really think that God’s ways are less effective than ours? Sometimes, yes. At least our actions show that we do. Do we really think God doesn’t know what He’s doing? We’d probably never put it that way, but sometimes…yes.

I guarantee you that God, who created the universe and everything in it, knows far better how to run His universe than you or I do. He knows infinitely better than we the things that will cause our lives to run smoothly.

Is there some area today, right now, where you’re going your own way instead of God’s? Maybe you’re nagging your husband instead of respecting him like the Bible tells us to do. Maybe you’re too harsh with your kids, provoking them to wrath, like Scripture tells us not to do. Maybe your disobedience consists of an unsubmissive attitude or outright, conscious refusal to obey. Whatever way you’ve found around God’s commands, I guarantee you that things are not working out better for you right now than they would be if you were to obey God. Your husband is not more responsive to your needs than He would be under God’s plan, your children are not better behaved than they would be, and your disobedience is not bringing you more satisfaction than you would have otherwise. If you have fallen for these lies, the devil has you right where he wants you.

Make sure your ideas line up with God’s. If they don’t, it’s not His ideas that are mistaken.

When you follow your Daddy’s training, things always work out better.

Joshua 1:8—This Book of the Law shall not depart from your mouth, but you shall meditate on it day and night, so that you may be careful to do according to all that is written in it. For then you will make your way prosperous, and then you will have good success.

Coming Alongside

Last week, I wrote about our most recent visit to Chuck E. Cheese and about how someone stole Kenny’s tokens, despite the safety precautions he took. I shared Kenny’s grief with you, and I reminded all of us that there are times we simply can’t blame ourselves for what happened to us—times God doesn’t blame us, either.

This week, I want us to look more closely at something I didn’t even mention last week, because it deserved a whole week by itself. It’s a simple yet profound lesson. If we can fully grasp it and put it into practice, we will display both the character of God and the character He desires from His Church. And that, my friends, is what we were made to do. So let’s look right now at the role three-year-old Jessica played in what happened at Chuck E.’s.

When Kenny walked up to me crying over the theft of his tickets and tokens, and I began to assess what I could do to comfort him, Jessica had something to tell me. “Mommy, I gave him some of my tickets,” she said solemnly.

“Sweetie, that’s really nice of you,” I said.

“I don’t mind,” she said matter-of-factly.

That, right there, is the lesson. Jessica saw her brother in pain, and she comforted him the best she could: by giving him some of her tickets to make up for what he’d lost. She saw him hurting, so she gave, even at cost to herself. And she didn’t mind.

That’s what coming alongside someone is all about. It’s seeing someone in pain and doing our best to comfort her. Period. It’s as simple as that. Yet too often, we decide the cost of coming alongside someone is too great, so we do nothing. Or we assume someone else is going to do something, so we do nothing. Or maybe we’re just selfish, so we do nothing.

I’m not suggesting that each of us is supposed to meet every need we’re aware of. That’s just not possible. But we’ve all been in a situation when God prompts our hearts to give. “Come alongside that person,” He says. “Give.” When He says that, we have a choice. Will we obey?

Giving isn’t always going to involve money. It won’t even always involve material things. But it will often involve something that’s even more precious to us—our time. When the Spirit prompts us, will we be willing to sacrifice our time to come alongside someone? Will we give of our emotions in order to support someone?

God certainly did. He gave His Son Jesus, and in so doing, He gave Himself. Then, when Jesus returned to heaven, the Father gave His Spirit. He is no disinterested God who sits in heaven watching us crawl around down here like little ants. No, He is a loving Father who sees us hurting and gives of Himself to make us feel better.

I pray that God makes us discerning, so that we will know when it’s His will for us to step into a situation. I pray that when it is His will, that He’ll make us obedient. May we always be willing to minister whenever God gives the word, no matter what it might cost us. And in so doing, may we show a watching world the kind of relationship God wants to have with them—coming into their lives not to condemn, but that they might be saved, and loved, and encouraged through Him.

Luke 10:33-34—But a Samaritan, as he journeyed, came to where he was, and when he saw him, he had compassion. He went to him and bound up his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he set him on his own animal and brought him to an inn and took care of him.

Me!

My three-year-old daughter Jessica loves to help around the house. She takes pride in being a “good helper”, and whenever she’s asked to do something, she trots off importantly to accomplish the task. Upon being told she’s done a good job, she beams with pleasure.

I knew Jessica was convinced that she is a good “cweaner”, a good mopper, and a good cook. But I didn’t know she was also a…well, let me tell you the story.

The other day, my husband was preparing homemade strawberry topping for the homemade shortcake I had made. “Can I help?” Jessica asked.

“She’s a good helper,” I affirmed to my husband, not because he didn’t know, but so Jessica could hear me say it.

“I have to slice the strawberries with a sharp knife, so that’s something Daddy has to do himself,” he said. “Then I just have to macerate them.”

“I’m a good macewator!” Jessica shouted happily.

I’m sure she had no more idea what the word meant than I did (apparently, it means letting the berries sit in sugar until the juices come out). But that didn’t stop her. She just knew she was a good…whatever it was.

It’s kind of like a point Robert Fulghum made in his book All I Really Need to Know, I Learned in Kindergarten. He talked about how if you ask a class of kindergarteners, “Who’s a good (singer/artist/runner)?” they will all shoot their hands into the air and shout, “Me!” But ask that same group of people twenty years later, and few of them will say, “Yep, I’m good.”

Why is that? It’s because kindergarteners haven’t yet learned to compare themselves to others and find themselves inferior. They haven’t fully grasped the idea that “some are better than others” and that they might be part of the “others”. As adults, we know it full well, and we’ve categorized ourselves with the “some” or the “others” depending on the category.

Many of those kindergarten girls might dream of being ballerinas. Many of the boys probably dream about being sports stars. But those same kids twenty years later no longer have those same dreams. They “know” they can’t do it, so they don’t want to try.

Sometimes, this isn’t a problem. After all, we have to be realistic. For example, I’m 5’4” and female. I will never play for the NBA no matter how hard I practice, so I might as well admit it now. The problem comes in when we categorize ourselves wrongly (an “other” when we should be a “some”, or vice versa), or when we let our “otherness” cause us to feel bad about ourselves. Worse yet is when we let our perceived “otherness” cause us to believe we can’t do something God has called us to do, or when we lose the desire to try because we believe we can’t be the perfect “some”.

Instead of being a really great “some”, even if not the very best one, we wind up being, in terms of our service,…nothing. Instead of being an average “some”, but one whom God has called, we are…nothing.

Moses would understand how we feel. When God met him at the burning bush and called him to lead his people out of Egypt, Moses made excuses. “They’re not going to listen to me,” he said.

“Okay,” God said, “tell them My Name. Then they will listen.”

“Maybe,” Moses said. “But what if they still don’t believe me?”

“All right,” God said, “I’ll teach you how to perform miracles that will validate your credibility in their eyes.”

“But I can’t speak very well,” Moses protested.

“Who do you think made your mouth?” God demanded. “And if I say you can do it, you can do it already! Now go! I’ll even help you!”

“Aw, come on, please pick somebody else,” Moses begged.

“Moses, you blew it!” God said. “I’ll pick your brother, all right, but you just missed out on a huge blessing.”

Obviously, I have paraphrased this story, but don’t miss the point: Moses didn’t want to do the job because he was afraid he wouldn’t succeed.

How often are you and I tempted to do the same thing—to let somebody else do the job because we don’t want to fail? Granted, nobody likes failure, but why in the world would we think we’d fail if God has called us to do it? Do we not believe that He will enable us to do that which He’s commanded us to do?

No, we don’t. Or at least, not always. We’re more concerned with how we will feel if we fail or how we will look to others (which gets back to how we will feel) than we are with God’s greatness and complete ability. We’d rather miss out on a few blessings than take a chance on looking foolish to others. In other words, we care more about what others think of us than what God thinks of us. And what do you think God thinks of us in that situation? Sure, He still loves us. He always will. But I bet He thinks something like There’s my beloved child who just won’t trust me! Why won’t you? Why do you not believe that if I call you, I will never abandon you?

So we spend our lives being only intermittently willing vessels for His use—provided, of course, that He doesn’t call us to do something out of our comfort zone. Provided that He doesn’t ask anything beyond what we think we are capable of.

Friend, God can—and will!—make you capable of anything He calls you to do. Don’t limit His work in you by hesitating or refusing when He calls you. Choose to trust Him. Be useful for Him. Let Him make of you what He wants—not merely what you will permit.

I don’t know what use He might want to make of your life today. But I do know it’s incredible. In fact, it was valuable enough to Him that He wants to assign you to do it. Will you let Him do what He wants to do? Or will you be your own master? Will I?

I pray we won’t. I pray when He asks “Who’s a good servant for me?” that instead of saying “Please find somebody else,” we’ll shoot our hands up and shout, “Me!” knowing that He will enable us. Let’s all go back to kindergarten, when we believed anything was possible. Because anything He calls us to is possible.

2 Corinthians 9:8—And God is able to make all grace abound to you, so that in all things at all times, having all that you need, you will abound in every good work.

Independent

Today, our country celebrates gaining our independence 235 years ago. For many people, it will be a day-long celebration—grilling out, swimming, hanging out with family and friends, and watching fireworks. Actually, Americans spend quite a bit of time celebrating independence—not just our country’s independence, but our own personal independence.

It’s right and good to celebrate some steps toward independence, such as when children reach developmental milestones (like being able to open the tube of Desitin all by herself when you aren’t looking. Oh, well; at least I now know how to get waterproof substances out of bed linens). But sometimes, independence shouldn’t be celebrated. That’s because it can be a really bad idea, or even tragic.

For example, trying to do everything on one’s own as a mom, failing to ask for help when needed, and refusing it when it’s offered falls under the category of “really bad idea”. Everyone needs help at some point. Maybe even at lots of points. It’s foolish to think we can or should move through life independently of other human beings.

But it’s tragic when we think we can be independent of God. We were made to need Him, and our refusal to acknowledge that fact doesn’t change a thing. One of Satan’s favorite tactics is to prevent people from realizing how much they need God. Sometimes he might have to actively move in their lives to convince them of this; other times, he doesn’t have to do a thing, because they already think that way.

I’m not referring only to non-Christians. True, by definition, they believe they don’t need God. But we Christians can act the same way, calling God in as a consultant when life gets too difficult and running the show by ourselves the rest of the time. Have you seen the bumper sticker that reads “God is my co-pilot”? What that’s saying is that God is a consultant. An assistant. The pilot consults God when necessary and otherwise handles things on his or her own.

How would we know if we are treating God as an assistant rather than chief pilot and architect? We can know if, when something bad happens, we consult friends and the internet before we pray. It’s also a pretty good indication when we can’t remember the last time we spent time with Him, but we can remember the last time we were on Facebook. Likewise, it should tell us something when we spend more time asking for God’s blessings than we do praising Him and putting ourselves at His disposal.

We’ve all been there, my friend. We’ve all been far too independent at times. And we’ll be tempted to “forget” God again in the future. How do we prevent this from happening? We can’t necessarily prevent the temptation. But we can make it such a priority to spend time with God and ask for His perspective that eventually, it will become unnatural not to do so. We can get so used to being in His presence and checking in with Him first that doing so will become as natural as breathing. (For more on this topic, see my recent series on “Growing in God: Mommy Edition”.)

I don’t know about you, but on this Independence Day weekend, I need a little more dependence in my life, at least where my relationship with God is concerned. I don’t want to be independent of Him. Ever. Countries may decide they don’t want another country to rule over them, but I know I need God to rule over me. I would take no pride in declaring my independence of Him; instead, I take pride in the greatness of the One Who is my Master. I want to be under His rule. I hope you want the same.

Joshua 24:15—And if it seem evil unto you to serve the LORD, choose you this day whom ye will serve; whether the gods which your fathers served that were on the other side of the flood, or the gods of the Amorites, in whose land ye dwell: but as for me and my house, we will serve the LORD.

Let’s Go

Yesterday, I took Ellie and Kenny out with me to purchase several items they will need for camp which starts today. We had a list, and most of the trip went pretty well. The only difficulty was trying to find water bottles with a strap, which apparently don’t exist. And who knew I wouldn’t have to buy my kids water guns after all, because while they wanted to squirt other people in the giant Waterpalooza, they didn’t want anybody to squirt them. (I was going to buy the big ones, too. The Uzis of water gun-dom. Rats.)

Actually, being with just my older two felt oddly freeing. They’re much better at staying close to me than their younger sisters are. Unlike Lindsey and Jessica, they rarely need to be reminded of our motto for public behavior: calm and close. Whenever I was looking at one display or choosing a product off the shelves and got ready to move on, all I had to say was, “Let’s go,” and they immediately came with me.

I know; I should have been grateful for that much. And I was. But I remember at one point thinking that it would be even nicer if Ellie and Kenny were paying attention to me and followed me without my even having to call for their attention. Realistically speaking, if I want them to learn to do that, I will have to tell them, “Your attention needs to be on Mommy so that you will see me when I start to go somewhere else and so that you can follow.”

In other words, I would have to tell them the same thing God tells us.

“Focus on Me,” He says. “Do what I’m doing.” When God wants to move us off in a different direction, He shouldn’t have to get our attention first. Our attention should already be on Him.

Often, it isn’t. We’re far too easily distracted by interesting things we discovered. God gets ready to lead us somewhere else, and we’re so entranced by the Transformers or the Squinkies we don’t notice He’s moving on until He calls our name. That kind of level of paying attention is fine for children with their mother in a store. It’s excellent, even, since they heard me the first time and obeyed immediately. But it’s not good enough for us with our Father. Our eyes should be constantly upon Him so that we’re instantly in tune with where He’s going and what He wants to do.

Granted, sometimes it’s hard to see Him. Sometimes we’re doing our best to look straight at Him, but it seems like we can’t find Him. We’d love to follow Him if we could only figure out where He was going. But other times, the only reason we don’t know is because we’re not paying attention. In that case, our focus is all wrong.

If you’re like me, it’s easy to lose ourselves in the busyness of the day and wind up focusing far more frequently on laundry, discipline problems, and sticky jelly messes than on the Lord. But just because it’s easy doesn’t mean it’s okay. Yes, we need to pay attention to the tasks in life He’s called us to—but not to the exclusion of paying attention to Him.

Where is your focus today? Where is mine? If God gets ready to move, will we notice?

Psalm 123:1—To you I lift up my eyes, O you who are enthroned in the heavens!

**For more encouragement on practical ways to stay focused on God, check out the How to Grow Closer to God page of this website.**

Doesn’t Apply

Our church recently held its annual fall campout, and this year, for the first time, our family was able to go. Our kids were all finally old enough that we thought camping with the whole family sounded like a good idea, so we packed up and headed out to a state park a couple hours away.

We all had a great time. Too soon (yes, seriously) it was time to come home. We lugged everything into the house, and I began the task of unpacking and getting the kids to help me. I put a load of stuff that belonged to the girls into their room and told them to start putting it away while I took care of something else. A few minutes later, I saw Lindsey bounding by on one of those large rubber balls with a handle, where you sit on it and bounce along. “Lindsey,” I said, “you need to clean up. I told you girls that already.”

“Oh,” Lindsey said innocently. “I thought you just meant Ellie and Jessica.”

Oh, no, she didn’t. She knew what the spirit of the law was. But because I hadn’t specifically named each girl, she saw a way to claim that she believed the letter of the law didn’t apply to her.

Sounds kind of like what we adults do, doesn’t it? Oh, we might not go as far as Lindsey did, and claim God’s law doesn’t apply to us, but we often give ourselves far more grace than we give others in determining what level of compliance is necessary in order to meet His standards. We may not say, “God’s law doesn’t apply to me; I don’t have to be loving.” But we might very well say, “Yes, God’s law applies to me, and I’m doing a fine job of fulfilling it.”

We act as if God’s law says “be more loving”, and then we figure that applies to other people who really need it, not to us who are already doing a good job. Or we proceed as if it says “be more patient”, and assume that also applies only to others who aren’t doing as well as we are.

But in reality, God’s law doesn’t say, “be more loving.” It says, “be perfectly loving (or patient, or kind, etc.),” and we fall far short of perfection. We are not “good enough”. There was only one “good enough” Person Who ever walked this earth, and that was Jesus Christ. He was the only One Who perfectly fulfilled God’s law. The rest of us fall woefully short.

I’ve often heard the phrase “we’re not under law; we’re under grace”. That’s true. But it doesn’t mean that God’s standards are any less. Yes, if we’ve acknowledged Christ as the Lord of our lives and asked Him to forgive us of our sins, His perfect sacrifice stands in our stead. He took our punishment so we wouldn’t have to. But His standards are still the same. He doesn’t say, “Now that you’re a Christian, it’s okay for you to be less than loving, because you’re under grace.” Quite the contrary. In fact, the Bible declares that people will know we are Christians by the love we have for one another.

God’s moral law still applies. And it still applies to us.

We would do far better to spend our time asking God to reveal the sin in our lives and repenting of it than to spend it deciding where other people have messed up and what they should do about it. I don’t mean that we should never confront others’ sin. There is a time, a place, and a way for that. But I do mean that confronting sin should start with that which we find in our own lives.

Search me, O God, and know my heart. Help me to know it, too, and to spend more time searching it than searching the hearts of others. In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen.

Matthew 7:3-5—Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when there is the log in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye.

Anything Else?

Our church recently held its annual fall campout, and this year, for the first time, our family was able to go. Our kids were all finally old enough that we thought camping with the whole family sounded like a good idea, so we packed up and headed out to a state park a couple hours away.

We all had a great time. Too soon (yes, seriously) it was time to come home. We lugged everything into the house, and I began the task of unpacking and getting the kids to help me. I put a load of stuff that belonged to the girls into their room and told them to start putting it away while I took care of something else. A few minutes later, I saw Lindsey bounding by on one of those large rubber balls with a handle, where you sit on it and bounce along. “Lindsey,” I said, “you need to clean up. I told you girls that already.”

“Oh,” Lindsey said innocently. “I thought you just meant Ellie and Jessica.”

Oh, no, she didn’t. She knew what the spirit of the law was. But because I hadn’t specifically named each girl, she saw a way to claim that she believed the letter of the law didn’t apply to her.

Sounds kind of like what we adults do, doesn’t it? Oh, we might not go as far as Lindsey did, and claim God’s law doesn’t apply to us, but we often give ourselves far more grace than we give others in determining what level of compliance is necessary in order to meet His standards. We may not say, “God’s law doesn’t apply to me; I don’t have to be loving.” But we might very well say, “Yes, God’s law applies to me, and I’m doing a fine job of fulfilling it.”

We act as if God’s law says “be more loving”, and then we figure that applies to other people who really need it, not to us who are already doing a good job. Or we proceed as if it says “be more patient”, and assume that also applies only to others who aren’t doing as well as we are.

But in reality, God’s law doesn’t say, “be more loving.” It says, “be perfectly loving (or patient, or kind, etc.),” and we fall far short of perfection. We are not “good enough”. There was only one “good enough” Person Who ever walked this earth, and that was Jesus Christ. He was the only One Who perfectly fulfilled God’s law. The rest of us fall woefully short.

I’ve often heard the phrase “we’re not under law; we’re under grace”. That’s true. But it doesn’t mean that God’s standards are any less. Yes, if we’ve acknowledged Christ as the Lord of our lives and asked Him to forgive us of our sins, His perfect sacrifice stands in our stead. He took our punishment so we wouldn’t have to. But His standards are still the same. He doesn’t say, “Now that you’re a Christian, it’s okay for you to be less than loving, because you’re under grace.” Quite the contrary. In fact, the Bible declares that people will know we are Christians by the love we have for one another.

God’s moral law still applies. And it still applies to us.

We would do far better to spend our time asking God to reveal the sin in our lives and repenting of it than to spend it deciding where other people have messed up and what they should do about it. I don’t mean that we should never confront others’ sin. There is a time, a place, and a way for that. But I do mean that confronting sin should start with that which we find in our own lives.

Search me, O God, and know my heart. Help me to know it, too, and to spend more time searching it than searching the hearts of others. In Jesus’ name I pray. Amen.

Matthew 7:3-5—Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye? Or how can you say to your brother, ‘Let me take the speck out of your eye,’ when there is the log in your own eye? You hypocrite, first take the log out of your own eye, and then you will see clearly to take the speck out of your brother’s eye.

Cleaning Up

It’s amazing how quickly the house can get messy. Sometimes, I have it clean, but then I blink, and when I look again, the kids’ toys are scattered out all over the place. So I decided a long time ago to make the kids responsible for cleaning up their own messes. Each child has to clean up his or her own stuff throughout the house, as well as help Mommy when necessary.

One day, when I saw that the floor in Kenny’s room was covered with his favorite toys, I told him to go clean his room. “Yes, ma’am,” he said, and went in to start cleaning. That’s nothing new. He is almost always quick to obey when I ask him to clean. But this time, his response turned out to have been even more extraordinary than consistent obedience.

A couple minutes later, I went to check on him and found him cleaning up his toys. He had obviously been working since I told him to begin, but there was still a lot left to do. “Kenny, who was in here playing with you?” I asked, intending to have that child help him.

Kenny paused a second, considering the question. “Nobody was playing with me, because I wasn’t playing,” he said. Then he added willingly, “But I’ll clean it up.”

Wow. What an awesome attitude. Even though he had had no part in the mess, he willingly went to clean up when I told him to. He could have protested that he hadn’t been the one to make the mess and therefore shouldn’t have to clean it up, but he didn’t. He simply went and did as he was told, and with a good attitude.

I guess I need to take a lesson from my son. Sometimes, when I’m told to do something, I protest. I’m not the one who did the wrong thing. Why should I have to be the one to deal with the mess that other person left behind?

But Jesus would have far more of a legitimate complaint than you or I would. After all, we’re the ones who messed up our lives by sinning. Yet He came to earth, lived, and then died on a cross for us so He could help us clean up our mess. He wasn’t the One Who made the mess; in fact, He never sinned in even the smallest degree. Yet the perfect righteousness of His perfect life now stands in place of our filthy rags, so that when God looks at us, He doesn’t see a mess. Instead, He sees us as spotlessly clean.

Most of us try to teach our kids that everyone in a family needs to pitch in a little extra to make the family run smoothly. But Jesus pitched in more than a little extra. He gave everything.

So the next time He asks us to help someone clean up his or her mess—whether that means forgiving an offense, providing instruction, or showing compassion—let’s do it with the right attitude. It’s not my mess, but I’ll gladly help clean it up. After all, You cleaned up everything for me.

Psalm 51:7—Cleanse me with hyssop, and I will be clean; wash me, and I will be whiter than snow.

Because

I was on the way to the YMCA with my three younger kids when the discussion turned to certain children’s characters who are dressed inappropriately. Lindsey commented that one of her friends had a backpack with these characters on it. “But they’re inappwopwiate,” Lindsey said.

We’ve talked about these characters before, but I thought it would be a good idea to reinforce the lesson. “Do you know why they’re inappropriate?” I asked.

“Yes,” Lindsey said.

“Why?” I asked, curious to see what she would say.

“Because you don’t allow them,” she said.

As far as Lindsey knew, the reason the characters were inappropriate for her was because of how I felt about them. It didn’t matter what my reasoning was, and it probably didn’t even occur to her to wonder. The fact that I didn’t allow them made them inappropriate, and that was sufficient for Lindsey.

Do you and I accept restrictions from God that easily? When He tells us something is inappropriate, is His word enough for us?

It should be.

Instead, we often accept His word grudgingly. Okay, I don’t agree, and I don’t like it, but since He’s God, I’ll have to accept it.

Or we try to make Him justify His reasoning. Why can’t I do that? That’s unreasonable. This doesn’t make sense, God.

Sometimes, we simply refuse to accept the restrictions He places upon us. This is nothing more—and nothing less—than blatant, open rebellion. Sin. I know what your command is, God. But I will not obey.

What do these three sinful reactions have in common? First, they all question God’s judgment. They all imply that if God would just think about it, He would realize that our way is better than His.

Second, they all reveal a complete lack of understanding that God only does things for our good. We tend to think that anything unpleasant must be bad for us. That isn’t necessarily true. Sometimes, the things that are most unpleasant bring us the greatest good. When God withholds something from us, we see it as His withholding the good, when in fact, the Bible clearly teaches that He will withhold no good thing from us.

However, the Bible also teaches that He withholds no good thing from those whose walk is blameless. Just as we sometimes withhold privileges from our children as a consequence for their behavior, so God may withhold something from us as a consequence for what we’ve done, or to get us to change our behavior. Something may be good in and of itself, but it may not be good for us to have it at a particular time. It may be better for us to do without it for awhile, or forever.

How, then, should we respond when God places a restriction upon us? We’ve already said that we shouldn’t respond by railing against it or by refusing to accept it. So what is the right response?

The right response to anything God does is always the same—loving, trusting acceptance, and voluntary submission to His will. Does God always expect us to like what He does? Of course not. But even when we don’t like something, we can say to Him, “God, I don’t like it. But because this is your will for me, I accept it. I know that somehow it fits in with your purposes, so I accept the portion you have assigned to me. I want to bring you glory through this.”

When the world sees us fighting against the God we claim to love and serve, or disregarding His wishes entirely, what kind of message do you think they get?

On the other hand, what message do they receive when they see us accepting His will, even when it’s not necessarily what we want?

What impression of God are you communicating to a watching world? Are you showing them that He is a God worth following, whose judgment is beyond question?

Or are you showing them that you think your judgment is equal to or better than His? That unless His ways please you, you won’t follow?

Oh, friend, I pray it’s the former for you. And I ask you to pray that it’s the former for me.

Psalm 84:11b—No good thing does he withhold from those whose walk is blameless.

Isaiah 55:9—As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.