Change Will Always Be a Battle

"Must I be carried to the skies / On flowery beds of ease?" wrote Isaac Watts in the eighteenth century. "Are there no foes for me to face? / Must I not stem the flood?" (Hymn, "Am I a Soldier of the Cross?")

Few of us, much as we may wish to grow as Christians, get particularly excited at the prospects in these lines--especially the implication of constant battle. And if outside wars are bad enough, the one in each human heart--the struggle to travel from where we know we are to where we wish we were--is so unrelenting and painful that it's not surprising many people surrender to semi-comfortable mediocrity. At least it's easy to live with.

Easy, but not fulfilling. God has bigger plans for each of us--plans too important to leave us to fight the battle alone. Praise Him that we have more than conscience and our own will power as "inside allies"--we have the Holy Spirit Who strengthens and comforts and guides us in the Truth. Most of us make the battle harder than it has to be, because we approach it with the wrong attitude. Spiritual growth is not an appendectomy where we can doze off and let someone else take care of everything, nor is it an exercise prescription where someone hands us detailed instructions and then leaves us to carry them out alone. It's physical therapy that only works if we keep our own muscles operating even as someone else provides constant instruction and support, a program where progress and results are re-evaluated and adjusted on a daily basis.

A hard fight? Yes. One we can win--in God's strength and not ours? You bet.

Change will always be a battle,
And the hardest change of all
Is that wrought in one's own spirit:
So it has been since the Fall.

Change will always be a battle;
Though resolve be firm and strong,
Still new ground is gained by inches,
And the struggle will be long.

Change will always be a battle
For mere mortals, weak and frail:
And against sin's lure so cunning,
Human strength can not prevail.

Change will always be a battle:
But those souls who walk in Christ
Find we have a great Commander,
And His strength will yet suffice.

Change will always be a battle,
But fear not: God's holy Son
Is the One Who fights it for us:
Through Him we shall overcome.

Pieces of the Puzzle

You probably know about the "yellow ribbon" loop worn to indicate support for soldiers and others in dangerous situations away from home. Perhaps you also know about the "red ribbon" loop for AIDS and the "pink ribbon" loop for breast cancer. What you may not know is that there is a whole rainbow of "awareness ribbons" representing support for every cause imaginable. A navy ribbon symbolizes human trafficking; an orange ribbon leukemia; a silver ribbon mental illness. (Among other things. Most colors have been appropriated by multiple causes; see Wikipedia for an extensive list.)

Particularly intriguing is the "puzzle ribbon" for autism, which comprises a pattern of assorted bright colors shaped like interlocked jigsaw puzzle pieces. According to the Autism Society, "The puzzle pattern reflects the mystery and complexity of the autism spectrum. The different colors and shapes represent the diversity of the people and families living with the condition. The brightness of the ribbon signals hope—hope that through increased awareness of autism, and through early intervention and appropriate treatments, people with autism will lead fuller, more complete lives."

Perhaps the "puzzle ribbon" should also signify the fallen human condition. In a sense, all of us have autism: not merely unwilling, but literally unable, to see past our own immediate desires and form an accurate picture of reality. Most jigsaw puzzle pieces, by themselves, show no more visible "picture" than does a quick paint smear from a brush touched to the palette at random: likewise with the individual events of our lives. Absorbed in each event as it happens, we frequently moan that life makes no sense.

Praise God, He gives us the brightness of hope through Jesus Christ, weaving our fragmented lives into a beautiful picture that we will ultimately see clearly. 

Strewn before the eyes in fragments--
Few make sense when viewed alone--
Each a different splotch of color,
Void of meaning in its tone.
Yet, with patient, careful working,
Slow but certain, wholeness grows,
Till, each piece at last positioned,
Then the final picture shows.

Human lives are ever splintered:
Things that happen, on their own,
Often splotched with pain and heartache,
Make small sense when viewed alone.
Yet, be patient with God's working,
As His purpose slowly grows,
Till your life, all things completed,
His eternal meaning shows!

The Trouble with Systems

I apologize for the long break since the last post. Call it sick leave: my stress levels, rarely comfortable, have hit near-record highs over the past few weeks. Posts may well continue to be sporadic for some time.

What really hurts is that just as God seems to be developing in me a solid sense of my long-term calling--"to write Christ's comfort to the stressed, depressed, and hard-pressed"--He also seems to have decided I need more experience as one of them. No sooner is one anxiety relieved than another asserts itself; and no matter what I do (including prayer) in terms of time management, there's never enough margin in a day to keep me from getting frazzled.

All too easily, time management mutates from a tool to aid in God's work into a substitute god; if you're anything like me, dropping an item from the schedule can feel like surgery without anesthetic. We think we have everything laid out and under control--and then "life happens." It hurts to admit we judged poorly in scheduling something; it hurts to cut our forward momentum and turn onto a new path; and it hurts to give up something we'd been counting on.

Such happenings are, of course, God's tools for reminding us only He can be counted on. Sometimes we want to scream at Him for letting us go in the wrong direction in the first place, particularly if it was a good direction in itself. It seems that not only would our lives be easier, but God's work would get done more efficiently, if He were a bit more specific in His guidance. But He evidently has more important ends in mind--ends we can't see from our human perspective.

So is it wrong to make plans and schedules? Of course not. What's wrong is to become addicted to them--so fixated that the God of the still small voice can't get our attention without shouting.

Every book and every website--
So it seems this hurried day--
Knows the "secret" to resolving
All life's struggles and dismay.

If you use this planning system;
If you pray this acronym;
If you think along these guidelines,
You will never stress again.

Are you sure? Just look at Scripture:
Mood swings plagued the Psalmists too,
And the prophets knew frustration,
And apostles failed like you.

Even Jesus, Who was perfect,
Had His days of stress and strain--
That He might be fully human,
And might truly know our pain.

Peace of mind is won through struggle;
Growing pains may last for years;
God is never in a hurry.
All our setbacks, all our tears,

Are His tools to make us stronger,
Shaping us to go His way.
Trust His hand and wait in patience;
Bear your burden every day.

In the end, when all is finished,
When we reach God's perfect rest,
We will see how trials and struggles
Made us His and made us blessed!

Lord, You Brought My Life to Being

This will be my last post of 2010, as I prepare for Christmas break. In early 2011 I hope to announce a new website where readers can purchase my book based on this blog, Where Light Dawns: Christian Poems of Hope for Hurting Hearts. In the meantime, please e-mail all inquiries to kswarts@ix.netcom.com.

***

We all know that Advent is ideally a time of worshipful contemplation and of thanks to God for sending Jesus into the world and for all the Second Coming promises. And probably 90% of us continue to bog down each year in the swamp of "love it in theory but can't make it work in practice." Too much shopping, too much food, too many invitations, too many mailings--all of which we feel obligated to go through with even as the sum total leaves us exhausted and feeling guilty. Ultimately, we all have to face it: unless we're among the few for whom it's practical to move to a retreat center for three weeks, our special Advent time has to be carefully scheduled and usually comes out smaller than we'd hoped for.

Part of the problem may well be that our hopes are unreasonable. If you're anything like me, one thing you'd love to get for Christmas--or any time of the year--is a spiritual discipline program that works like piano lessons: clearly defined exercises, set hours, obvious signs of progress, and ultimately a mastery that ensures you never again have to struggle to learn more or do the right thing. I can now hear the real musicians chiding me for my overly idealized description of mastering the piano: "Obviously, she doesn't know about the monotony of practicing the same exercise over and over, the frustration of fearing you'll never master a difficult movement, the temptations to skip practice, the image of perfection that only recedes as you advance!" Okay, I admit that the "reach the peak and rest" dream is always an illusion, whether we're talking about the fine arts, education, or spiritual growth.

Ironic how quickly our noblest goals are tainted by laziness and the selfish desire for expediency. And ironic how quickly, after being saved, we forget all God gives us and start whining about what we still want. Most of us should have little trouble identifying with the Israelites in the wilderness, whose theme song quickly became, "How do we know God will continue providing for our needs--especially when what He provides isn't that great anyway?" We not only want what we want when we want it, we want it before we want it, as though even having to ask were more work than should be expected of us.

The real purpose of Advent is the same purpose that lay behind all the ancient Jewish festivals commanded by God, and that still lies behind their Christian counterparts today. That purpose is to take time to remember how great God is, how small we are, and how good He is to give us anything at all--let alone as much as He does. Especially since we constantly seem bent on doing everything possible to prove we deserve nothing but scolding and punishment.

That God still loves us and will do anything to supply our true needs, is the real gift.

Lord, You brought my life to being,

Gave me all the power I need

To perform Your works with purpose,

Praising You in every deed.

Still I greet each dawning morning

With a groan of inward dread:

“Only pain and stress await me;

Why should I desert my bed?”

Lord, through all that life has brought me

You have fed me by Your hand,

Led me safe through fiery struggles,

Silenced storms by Your command.

Still I test Your power and goodness:

Oh, how quickly I forget

All the wonders You have shown me,

All the needs that You have met!

Lord, You discipline Your children

With a Father’s love and care:

In each trial or pain that strikes me,

Your controlling hand is there.

Still I have despised Your chastening,

And my fleshly, selfish lust

Turns my thoughts to fretful pouting:

“What I want is always just!”

Lord, You know my human weakness;

I am but a fleeting wind

With a life that soon will perish,

Not to walk this earth again.

You, the One Who lives forever,

Weak and sinful though I be,

Share that endless life in mercy:
Lord, forgive, and set me free!

All Else Was Forgotten

St. Paul urges all Christians to "Be joyful always... give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus" (1 Thess. 5:16, 18, NIV). I have a painful tendency to come up short on both points. Even when there's nothing obvious to dread, the first mental message I get upon waking is usually "Why bother getting up? Nothing worthwhile ever happens to you anyway." Even when there's nothing obvious to complain about, I feel semi-depressed a good bit of the time. Blame bad habit, natural temperament, physical health, or all three--in any case, "life stinks" is not a pleasant attitude to live with.

Still, as with most negative personality traits, those of us who suffer from chronic pessimism tend to dread even more the prospect of changing. There's something comfortable about familiar territory even when we're miserable in it. The idea of moving up to new ground can generate a mental image of perpetual climbing, never reaching the top, never being able to rest, never really seeing things get perceptibly better. With this idea fixed in our heads, attempts at self-motivation prove sporadic at best.

The antidote is God-motivation, which is probably why Paul placed "Pray continually" (1 Thess. 5:17) right in the middle of his call to joy and thanksgiving. The three are inseparable in a Christlike attitude, and there is no place for being sporadic; this approach is to be practiced "always... continually... in all circumstances."

Hard? No question. Slow progress? Almost certainly. The development of such practices--even coming to understand exactly what they look like in an individual life--usually is sporadic. But it becomes a bit easier when we remember that it's not our strength but God's that does the real work. The mistake most of us make is to let our circumstances, our weaknesses, and our emotions "get in our eyes" and block our view of God's strength, God's adequacy, and God's provision. Even our prayers often focus on our wishes for what we see as the best solutions--which leaves little time or inclination to praise God for Who He is and to thank Him for all He has already done.

Next time you find yourself thinking "I can't" in regard to a point of spiritual growth, don't argue directly. Read the Bible, look at the stars, or review what God has done for you in the past--and see if your gloom-and-doom feelings don't fade away in His light.

Job saw life's achievements all crumble around him;
It seemed God had left him when trouble had found him.
He cried out to Heaven for some explanation,
For justice, fair hearing, and quick vindication.
And God finally answered from out of the thunders,
Directing Job's vision to all the Lord's wonders.
Job quickly left off from bemoaning his story:
All else was forgotten in light of God's glory.

I cried out to Heaven for freedom from troubles,
And for quick relief from my doubts and my struggles.
My longing for ease was obscuring my vision
Of God's mighty strength and His endless provision.
Then He urged, "Remember the ways I have brought you,
The deeds I have done and the things I have taught you."
I felt so ashamed in recalling life's story:
All else was forgotten in light of God's glory.

Our Father is Master of everything living;
Our Lord, the Almighty, is constantly giving;
Yet we, wretched mortals, crave comfort and pleasure
And give little thought to God's Heavenly Treasure.
Stop praying for things that you think you're "deserving,"
And look to your Lord and His purpose unswerving,
And open your Bible--get lost in His Story--
Let all be forgotten except His own glory.

God Is Working His Way in Us

"Most Christians who need counseling have one thing in common," writes Jay E. Adams in his booklet Christ and Your Problems. "Their conversation is studded with the word 'can't.'"

Most experienced counselors, Christian or otherwise, would agree that "I can't" is frequently the lazy person's euphemism for "I don't want to bother trying; I don't want to do my share of the work." When a Christian talks this way, it also implies a lack of faith: "I don't believe God is strong enough to change me, or fair to expect me to change, or going to be much help in the process."

But there's another side to the "I can't do what God wants me to do" complaint. Many of us are willing, even eager, to change; come to the point of admitting we really can't do it unless God works in us; announce our full surrender to His will in the matter--and then, when we don't see instant and obvious perfection as a result, sink into discouragement over how often we still fall short. We even start to suspect that God is annoyed with us for not trying hard enough.

Perhaps we're trying too hard--trying to rush ahead of Him in the process. When it comes to spiritual growth, God is fond of the slow-and-steady approach; our problem is that our limited perspectives have little eye for slow progress. It's like losing weight after having been obese and sedentary for years. If the dieter chooses any reasonably healthy approach, the excess fat will come off bit by bit, ounce by ounce; and with new muscle building up at the same time, the scales may not even show much weight difference. It can be easy to conclude, "It's been nearly a month and every day I look the same as the day before; I'm not making any progress at all"--until someone we haven't seen in weeks greets us with, "I hardly recognized you; you look so much thinner!"

God does plan to make us perfect--in eternity. But why does He let us struggle so much in the here and now? Perhaps because the first sin to arise in humanity, and the last to be conquered in the individual, is pride. Like the Israelites in Dt. 8:10-18, who were prone to take personal credit for God's physical blessings, we might easily be tempted to start considering ourselves fully responsible for leaps-and-bounds progress--and slide into the same trap that caught the Pharisees, who in trying their best to "be good" turned themselves into the lowest of sinners.

The only proper approach to changing for the better is full submission to God at all times--and that includes willingly accepting His chosen pace.

God is working His way in us
By paths that we cannot see;
God is using each circumstance
To make us all we can be:
Nearer and nearer comes the day
When He’ll bring us His full, true light,
And our hearts will be pure for endless days
As we worship the Lord of might.

God is working His way in us:
Though struggles seem hard to bear,
God is building our lasting strength:
Doubt never that He does care.
Nearer and nearer comes the day
When He’ll call us up to His side,
And our hearts will be pure for endless days
As we rest in our holy Guide.

God is working His way in us
To purge us from love of sin;
God is cleaning our minds and souls
To wash out all taint within:
Nearer and nearer comes the day
When He shall bring us home at last,
And our hearts will be pure for endless days,
With the hardships of life all past.

God is working His way in us:
So let us fulfill each task
That He gives us to do for Him:
He sends all the strength we ask.
Nearer and nearer comes the day
When He’ll send out His final call,
And our hearts will be pure for endless days,
And our Lord will be All in All!

Not for Our Own Righteous Living

"The Law of Attraction" has entered the lexicon of phrases that everyone recognizes and many treat like a creed. At its most extreme, the concept regards positive thinking as magic and human beings as gods. That in terms of the general population, the confident and cheerful are healthier and more accomplished than brooding pessimists is hard to deny; that you must therefore bring on yourself literally everything that happens to you seems a bit of a leap in logic. Nonetheless, the idea has its own attraction, especially for people who have never suffered any real tragedy and like to think themselves safe as long as they keep thinking positive. If Job were alive today, his "comforters," rather than assuming he was being punished for some active evil, might well seize on his statement that "What I feared has come upon me; what I dreaded has happened to me" (Job 3:25, NIV) and tell him that it only happened because he dreaded it.

It isn't only neopagans--those who believe that all physical aspects of the universe, including us, are simply manifestations of one central energy source--who think in these terms. Many people push the same idea in Christian dress: didn't Jesus Himself say many times, "Your faith has healed you" (e. g., Mt. 9:22); didn't He say that faith could move mountains (Mt. 21:21); and isn't it true that the reason He performed few miracles in Nazareth was "their lack of faith" (Mt. 13:58)? So doesn't it logically follow that a lack of faith can block God from doing the good He wants to do for us?

Well, no, it really doesn't, unless we throw out much of the rest of Scripture. If God "can do all things [and] no plan of [His] can be thwarted" (Job 42:2); if "nothing is impossible with God" (Lk. 1:37); if He created the whole universe from nothing and will someday defeat all evil forever and give us a new heaven and earth--it's more than a little ludicrous to think that a single human being could generate enough bad attitude to paralyze Him. Especially since the whole human race together hasn't even figured out how to build a cost-effective automobile that runs without waste or pollution.

Still, we all love our delusions of personal grandeur. We hate to let go of them even when we mature enough to realize that faith is more than a tool for gaining earthly health and wealth; when it comes to genuine spiritual growth, we tend to assume God wants us to get rid of all our own shortcomings overnight. I, for one, know well the "guilt fallout" from doing the same wrong thing for the ten-thousandth time; the discouragement of living with a brain that seems determined to consistently steer my thoughts away from wholehearted worship and into trivial daydreams; the despair of longing for a personal "spiritual progress" yardstick to reassure me I've grown even a little in the past few months; the impatience of wanting to see a few major growth spurts right now; the frustration of not even knowing whether I'm really coming up short or simply expecting too much of myself.

Ultimately, that's where most of our problems lie: ever since Eve fell for the line about a quick bite of fruit bringing omniscience, we've expected too much of ourselves because we've considered ourselves God's equals. John 15:1-7 is worthwhile study for those of us who think we can perfect our own lives (in terms of either worldly success or spiritual maturity) with maybe a little help from God. To paraphrase: first we give ourselves to Christ and let Him cancel the eternal penalty of our sin; then we concentrate, not on making ourselves perfect, but on staying close to Christ and getting to know Him. Then He will do the work of perfecting us--providing we don't forget that we are literally helpless without Him, providing we don't unplug ourselves from our only Source of power by wandering off into self-generated attempts at "making things better." If we let our own plans and ideas usurp His place at the center of our lives, we risk becoming spiritually useless; if we make Him all that counts, then we can pray in faith and see great results. But we must never forget that "asking for whatever we wish" is to be saved for after we submit ourselves and our wishes to His authority.

We all like to think that we can find a way to put God in our debt. But since He owes us literally nothing, shouldn't we be all the more thankful that He gives us so much?

Not for our own righteous living,
Not for good deeds we have done,
But in His own love and mercy,
God sets us free through His Son.

We, who dare think ourselves worthy,
We, who dare call ourselves good,
All are the filthiest sinners--
Not one has done as we should.

Helpless to be our own saviors,
Nor can we, working alone,
Grow into Christlike perfection:
All of our strength is His own.

Even in glories eternal,
Even when sin is no more,
All of our power will be from Him,
He Who our every fault bore.

Trust Him to keep you from sinning;
Trust Him to guide all your days;
Trust Him to hold you forever--
He Who alone earns the praise!

Wilderness

The online dictionary at answers.com defines "wilderness" as "an unsettled, uncultivated region left in its natural condition," especially when barren or empty or covered with dense vegetation; or as "something characterized by bewildering vastness, perilousness, or unchecked profusion." Although the word is not without positive connotations in our ecosystem-conscious era--North America even maintains official "wilderness areas" where no development or motorized vehicles are permitted--many people still equate physical emptiness with bewilderment, peril, and other unpleasant I-am-not-in-control-here feelings.

Small wonder that before quick contact with and transportation back to "civilization" was an option, the majority of humanity regarded "wilderness" as an enemy to be either avoided completely or "tamed" out of existence. Answers.com notes that the word itself was probably derived from the Old English for "wild beast"--it's not hard to conclude that our ancestors considered the wilderness unfit for any other sort of inhabitant. Even today, few people would seriously consider living in any "wilderness" long-term.

Among the exceptions were many Biblical characters. Some were "exiled" to the desert under God's discipline; the Israelites of Moses's time are the classic example. In Numbers 14, having just completed their first long walk through the wilderness and on the verge of receiving the best God had promised them, they balked because it looked too hard to lay hold of. Worse, they effectively called God a liar by implying He had no intention of delivering on His promises. As punishment, God sentenced them to spend the rest of their lives in the wilderness they were afraid to step out of.

The majority of Biblical wilderness experiences, though, had more positive outcomes. Moses and David both grew more attuned to God's voice through years of shepherding in the wilds. Elijah received a fresh dose of encouragement and a new vision of God after a forty-day walk through the desert (1 Kings 19). And who can forget the forty days, commemorated in the Christian practice of Lent, that Jesus spent in the wilderness preparing spiritually for His ministry?

Probably few believers today are called to spend six weeks or more in open country with absolutely no human contact. (Probably even among Biblical believers, relatively few were actually called to such sojourns--there are no records of long solitary "wilderness experiences" in the lives of Abraham, Samuel, Jeremiah, or Peter, to name just a few Scriptural "greats.") But the real lesson is that the solitude humans often dread--isolation not only from other people, but from everyday conveniences and distractions--can be one of God's best tools in our spiritual growth. Anyone serious about spiritual disciplines knows the necessity of occasionally, albeit temporarily, giving up something we normally take for granted--from a day's worth of meals to an hour of television to some of our church activities--so we can give God our undivided attention and come to further understand that He is sufficient for all our true needs. In this sense, even a single afternoon of fasting and prayer is a "wilderness" of sorts.

As Michael Card's song "In the Wilderness" puts it, God's all-sufficient grace is the "painful purpose"--and "painful promise"--"of the wilderness."

Out from the city bustle, busy and rushed all day--
Out from the workday's hustle, and out from the world of play--
Out from life's ease and comfort--out from the world of wealth--
God calls His children to step out and nourish their spiritual health.

Out to the desert places, where little lives or grows,
Free from most human faces, and where little water flows,
God calls His children to Him: "Come to the wilds and see
New things that I wish to show you; and find your refreshment in Me."

Free from the world's distractions, free from life's wealth and ease,
Free from all squabbling factions, we find in our God new peace.
Here, as we wait in patience, He fills the heart and soul,
Shows us His grace all-sufficient, and brings our minds under control.

Fear not to wait in hunger; He is our Living Bread.
Waste not a thought to wonder about the rough path you tread.
Look on your Master only; worship and wait in awe,
And He then will grant you the vision the saints of the wilderness saw!

Reshape Me, Lord

More than one Christian writer has observed that God is never in a hurry. That's not always good news to those of us who get tired of His using the slow-and-steady approach to work out our concerns. Impatience can easily tempt us to turn cynical: "God can afford not to be in a hurry; He's got all the time in the world!"

One might think that "what's taking You so long?" prayers would be confined to totally selfish wants. They aren't. Not only do we get equally impatient over legitimate physical needs, but even those of us who are slightly more mature--who genuinely want to become Christlike--can quickly drift into the irony of a "give me patience--and I mean now!!" attitude. We forget that what grows quickly rarely becomes truly strong, and that those who do "grow up" overnight tend to be those who learn the hard way--through the spiritual equivalent of a good spanking.

But slow or fast, pleasant or painful, we grow best when willing to cooperate with God in the procedure--a cooperation which requires both accepting His timing and emulating His perseverance. So by all means let us continue praying for our own spiritual growth. God may not often rush to answer that prayer to our full satisfaction; but it's one prayer that He always answers--ultimately--with a "Yes."

Reshape me, Lord, that I may be
A living channel of Your grace;
Renew my heart, and let me see
Your loving hand in every place.

Reshape me, Lord, and make me strong
To do Your work each waking hour,
To know the right, reject the wrong,
And serve the world through Your great power.

Reshape me, Lord, and make me pure,
A faithful servant of Your will;
Lord, make me true, and strong, and sure,
To every day Your plans fulfill.

Reshape me, Lord, in hope and love,
And faith to trust Your guiding hand,
Until the day we meet above,
When I with You in glory stand.

Through the Strength of Christ We Can Do All Things

Having talked in last week's blog about God's slow-and-steady approach to our spiritual growth, I feel it only fair to give some attention to our own role in the process. There are more than a few Christians who use "waiting on the Lord" as an excuse for ignoring His proddings. ("How can I be sure this impulse is from God? I won't move until He shows me an unmistakable sign--something like a burning bush." "If God wants me to confront this situation, let Him give me the courage first; I won't even start until my last trace of apprehension vanishes.") Instead of being willing to grow through doing, we claim to be no more intelligent than computers, incapable of action until the full software is installed.

That said, we often act less like real-world computers than like science-fiction ones who develop minds of their own and decide their programmers should be the ones taking orders. We pull "I can do everything through him who gives me strength" (Phil. 4:13, NIV) out of its original context (which refers primarily to the strength to experience supernatural joy), and twist it to mean "I can accomplish anything I want if I just ask God to bless my plans." If those plans don't happen to coincide with God's, we sulk or whine or quit speaking to Him. How many chances to grow in Christ have been wasted because the person to whom the opportunity was offered wouldn't look past his or her own immediate wants?

It's true that God wants to do great things in us--and through us. And it's true that He gives us many of our dreams. But often we become so enamored of those dreams that we forget the God Who knows how and when the reality is best accomplished. Even the most spectacular, apparently-God-honoring work may leave God's will and blessing in the dust by becoming an end rather than a means. "Success" can actually be more dangerous than failure, because it's easy to take worldly success as the sole sign of God's approval--and then convince ourselves that as long as prosperity continues, anything we do is all right with God.

Perhaps that's why He allows relatively few of us to experience exceptional wealth and prominence. Better to do holy work quietly in the background than to found a major ministry that comes crashing down in scandal.

Through the strength of Christ we can do all things--
So the holy Scriptures assure us--
But our peace of mind quickly takes to wings
Unless He chooses "all things" for us.
For it's not for sake of our foolish pride
That God gives us strength for the battle,
But for the great Name of our Heavenly Guide,
Whom no earthly distress can rattle.

Through our faith in God we can haul great loads,
If our work is indeed at His giving,
But our feet will fail on the smoothest roads
Unless we stay on His track for living.
And it's not the fact that we see a need
That proves His wish for us to go to it,
For He alone chooses the one for each deed
And assigns to the doer to do it.

If you seek Christ's strength to accomplish much,
But demand the full privilege of choosing;
If you plead for the Spirit's holy touch,
But as only a thing for your using;
If you plan alone what you'd have God bless--
Then your work will fail all the faster.
So when you in prayer future dreams address,
Don't forget Who is always the Master!