prayer

This past week, a question was posed to me as part of a group. “How often have you prayed for your plans to succeed? And how often have they failed?” I nodded my head and smiled sagely. I do indeed know what it is like for my plans to fail. As usual, when the topic of failure is breached I think about Costa Rica. But about as soon as I started to nod, I stopped. Because I realized that while the mention of failure struck a chord, prayer did not. I did not consult God more than a handful of times toward the end of my service in Costa Rica. And even those times were just to say both ignorantly and oh-so-humanly, “God, you can't want me to be miserable, right? That cannot be what this experience is about.”

When I feel like it's time to bail (as an example of a particular type of decision that requires lots of reflection), I consider my options and consequences. If I choose to leave a place or situation, the decision is made and no matter what I think about it later, I remind myself that I must have had good reasons because I considered it carefully. Not even just Costa Rica - there was the semester I took off from college, the decision to go to Ecuador, every time I've broken up with a guy. A combination of pride and trust in my own common sense inures me to much second guessing and prolonged, tormented agonizing over pros and cons. I tend to make decisions quickly, convinced of my own knowledge of myself.

In that process, I have forgotten all about the God that will one day tell me all the secrets about myself that I've never known. The God that sees the whole plan, not just the part I feel stuck on, the plan that may be currently falling apart in my competent (but, after all, only human) hands. The God that perceives more keenly than anyone how conflicted I still am by my decision to leave Costa Rica.

What can I expect, when this God that I believe is essential to living, is adamantly refused entry to certain parts of my life?

The most frustrating thing about this is that I am still - STILL - able to rationalize avoiding God when a big decision comes around. Why should I have to consult my maker anyway? Haven't I been raised by reasonable people? Haven't they taught me how to behave in ways and make jugdments that keep me safe? And wasn't that all done based on what the Bible says and what we heard in church and their own conversations with God? Aren't the overwhelming gut instincts of, “This is not right, I should leave,” heaven sent? And it's not like I never pray, I pray all the time for patience and understanding and love. I just won't pray once I've made up my mind, and what would be the point of praying once I have my answer, anyway? Maybe it's good to take it upon myself to figure it out (even if I mess it up) because it means I haven't shifted the responsability of a making a decision to someone else, I'm not using God as a crutch or a cop-out.

I think my issues with pride are pretty evident. If you know me, you knew that before reading this blog entry. I like to do things and I like to do them well. I like to succeed in areas that others perhaps do not. I take special pride in a lifetime of being told that I'm special, believing it, and then going and doing spectacular and special things. And I love getting the recognition I recieve for doing those often independent endeavors. This is all to say that to submit my will and the the outcome of a life changing decision to God is very difficult. It's easy to listen to friends and say to myself, “Yeah, ok. But they're not me.” It's even easier to listen to my parents and think, “You guys have NEVER been in this situation. Ever.” How far up the chain of loving relationships does that extend?

Well, God has the perfect answers and they're not often the ones that are easy to execute. So while I listen to my friend's advice because it's why I enjoy socially, and while I listen to my parents because it's what I should do practically, there's nothing ultimate or perfect that necessitates right and possibly painful action. Not saying that I take it easy on myself all the time or that God's will is always terrifying, but, you know...it could be this time around. And then I'd have to share the credit, more than just a simple, “I thank God for the opportunity He gave me.” I'd have to switch it to, “I thank God for guiding me through this opportunity and providing me with the counsel that made this such a success. I never could have done it on my own.”

I think that's why I (incorrectly) think, “Well, God, you've equipped me in the past to deal with this new situation. Don't worry, I've got this one. But thanks for the offer.” I'm not perfect and I take a weird sort of savage pride in that, too - it's what makes me human and real. But this human has realized that in making real decisions, there is a perfect solution if I am humble enough to reach out to the One who has already laid my path and take His counsel seriously.