No, Lord

I got the chance to observe my grandkids this week. Cute kids. Not well behaved, I suspect, but grandparents aren't as concerned about that as parents must be simply because ... well ... we can leave. Kidding ... I'm just kidding ... mostly. But I have always found it interesting how much we can learn about ourselves and how we relate to God by looking at these little ones.

The oldest one is at that "Why" stage. You know the one. Regardless of what it is, if he is told, "No", he will ask, "Why?" And the answer doesn't matter because he will follow that with, "Why?" And if you still haven't acquiesced to his demands, you will get another, "Why?" You see, he doesn't actually care why. He is hoping that he'll wear you down and you'll give in. But parents (and others) indulge it because, "He's finally asking good questions."

I find that he is a perfect example of most of us. You see, we are rarely concerned about why. We are rarely concerned about what's best. We are rarely concerned about anything except that we want it and we should have it. Look, for instance, at the efforts to which we go to find out about when it's okay to get a divorce. We're not asking, "What does God think is best?" We're not asking, "What would be the best for me?" We're asking, "Under what circumstances can I get away with what I want?"

Sometimes, of course, it's too late. Then we're asking, "How can I justify what I've already done?" We'll search the Scriptures. We'll take apart what appears to be clear passages that explain, "God hates divorce" and we'll try to apply "known exceptions" to the unknown. "Well, if it's okay to divorce if an unbeliever deserts a believer, what if he deserts her emotionally? That's the same thing, isn't it?" It seems that we never ask, "Dear Lord, what is best? I will do whatever you think is best, regardless of how painful that might seem." Instead, we are more likely to say, "No, Lord," an absolutely nonsensical sentence.

There is a fear, it seems, among many Christians that they will do too much for God. They're afraid that they'll stick with that spouse and love them for the rest of their life because they are required to, only to get to heaven and hear, "Well, you really didn't have to do that." They'll give too much or love too much or obey too much and ... well ... waste some of the fun they could have had. Wouldn't want that to happen, would we?