Rocking the Boat

I grew up in church.

I knew Bible verses and stories by heart before I ever began reading Paul's epistles in my blue, soft-leather New King James Bible. I attended Christian school and studied the Accelerated Christian Education curriculum from grades 5-12. I loved memorizing the Paces' Scripture verses and rereading Proverbs every month.


My heart hungered to know God's will for my life, and I began having daily quiet time when a visiting speaker said that if we asked God, He would speak to us. I wanted above all to be a vessel of honor, ready and useful for the Master, and I knew the vital importance of staying attached to the Vine in order to bear fruit--the fruit of the Spirit and a harvest of souls.


I was determined to please God in every way, and I adhered to the requirements of Godly character: morality, purity, integrity, honesty, responsibility, humility, submission. All my life, I've known that God brings correction and instruction through church leaders, authority figures, and parents. As a teenager, I had to work on correcting my attitude a lot but never anything more than that, so early on I learned that Godly character and a quiet personality earn the reputation of being a "good girl"--an honor I still crave.


Now I'm still convinced that Godly character and holiness are Biblical essentials, but I'm not quite so convinced that being God's girl means never shocking the church's sense of propriety. In fact, I'm quite sure that Jesus did that all the time and the Holy Spirit continually seeks to jar us out of man-made traditions and comfortable expectations. And that means sacrificing our reputations at times.


Bummers. I understand the world won't always look well on me, but I really want other Christians and especially church leaders to speak well of me. I never want them to reprimand me or feel I've stepped over the line. So I'm extra-extra cautious. When I hear something out of the ordinary in my spirit, I'm instantly asking--like I've been trained to do--God, is that really You? 'Cause I don't want to rock the boat if You're not out on the water. Or maybe, I'm gonna have to jump out of the boat and run on top the waves if no one else agrees with what You've shown me.


Is that okay? I mean, oh my, what I've just listened to the voice of the serpent, and been carried away by my own desires like Eve? It's a real concern, isn't it? After all, Scripture warns, "When you stand, take heed lest you fall" (I Corinthians 10:12). Thinking we've heard from God when no one else validates the point is a big warning, for sure. And thinking we can hear better from God--now that's just stepping into a big ol' pile of pride.


So, sacrificing our reputation can be a risky thing. But sacrificing God's voice for our reputation--now that to me is by far worse. Scripture is always foundation, and God's character, His heart, are in line with His Word. Yet I've too often I've been afraid about what that still, gentle voice inside is saying. But why should I? Jesus promises that His sheep hear His voice and He leads them. He vows that the Spirit we receive at salvation is His very own Spirit, the Spirit of adoption by whom we cry out "Abba, Daddy!" and by whom we know that we are sons and daughters of God, not merely servants who don't know what their master is doing. And isn't the Creator of the Universe the One who loves us most and knows what's best?


Jesus speaks to us personally and deals with us on an individual, case-by-case basis. Do you believe that? I do. He peels back the heart and looks at it, layer by layer. He sees not only the past and present but also the future. He knows what we need even better than we do. And He doesn't remain silent. When we cry out to Him, Jesus steps in--personally, intimately. Isaiah says, "He didn't send someone else to help them. He did it himself, in person" (63:8, MSG). Hallelujah! We have a Heavenly Father who promises to never give us a snake when we ask for bread or a stone when we beg Him for an egg.


And I've learned that as we pursue an intimate love relationship with the One who purchased our souls with His own blood, there will be times when He asks us to step out of the boat where all the other disciples are and trust Him explicitly. This trust includes surrendering our every desire to His will and surrendering our attempts at control to His strong hands because His ways are far different from our own. And when we do, beloved, we will discover His joy and laughter exploding within our souls.


"Faith is not an effort, a striving, a ceaseless seeking, as so many earnest souls suppose, but rather a letting go, an abandonment, an abiding rest in God that nothing, not even the soul’s shortcomings, can disturb." –Evan