It was a fun weekend, watching my little granddaughter while her parents attended a church conference. At 20 months, she could only say a few words: mama, dada, and NO, which was very helpful. In the middle of our big fun play day, I thought we might enjoy a snack.
“Hey sweetie,” I asked, “Would you like an apple with Nanny?” Because yes was not in her vocabulary yet, she vigorously nodded her assent.
Opening the fridge, I spotted a large beautiful Honeycrisp apple, just ready for us to share. While my little one stood by, I grabbed a knife and began to slice it up. Suddenly, something was very amiss. Instead of beaming a smile, my granddaughter began pitching a huge fit. It was a flash storm of tears, screaming, and even a drop-on-the-floor tantrum. It happened so fast, I wasn’t sure what it was about. Then it hit me. In her world, eating an apple means you are given the whole piece of fruit. She probably takes a little bite or two, then drops it on the ground for her little doxie dog to further attack and drag around the house.
Nanny has a different way of doing things (and she wanted some of that apple), so I kept slicing. When it was finally sectioned out, I reached out to her with several slices. “Here you go sweetie,” I said to my slobbering little friend. “Here's your apple.” That's when she strung three words together for the very first time, vocalizing her strongly held opinion.
“No way," she said in her tiny little baby voice. “Oh no way!” Stifling deep laughter, I put a few apple slices on the table for her and proceeded to the playroom.
The encounter reminded me of the times that I've done the same thing with God’s providence. I’ve prayed and asked for a figurative apple; something good, a type of blessing, something to nourish and help me. Yet when God moves and the situation changes, I’m not exactly thrilled. The answer to the prayer doesn’t look like what I asked for. “No way,” my weak internal voice stammers. “Oh no way!”
God works through the prayers of his people, but all his work is done his way. Isaiah 55 clearly teaches that God does not follow our lead. He leads. When we ask for God’s will to be done, we assent to the mystery of his providence and that he often works incomprehensibly. We focus on the ends we ask for, while God folds those goals into a greater story, his story. He answers the desires of our heart in ways that are above and beyond what we can ask for or imagine (Eph. 3:20). That’s who he is.
God’s ways point to his holiness and other-worldliness. Understanding his nature is the essence of faith, for as Hebrews 11:6 teaches, the faithful believe God is who he says he is, and that he is the rewarder of those who earnestly seek him. Faith accepts God as exalted, holy, unique, enigmatic, and wildly creative. He knows best how to answer prayers.
Scripture teaches us about God’s unique nature both directly and indirectly. Why admonish Adam and Eve not to eat a certain kind of fruit? Because their Creator God makes the rules, whether mankind sees them as capricious or not. Why are men not allowed to see God’s face? Because he will not be quantified. Why was Moses chastised for striking the rock in the wilderness instead of speaking to it? Moses wasn’t punished for being angry. Instead, his actions offended God’s holiness; “the Lord said to Moses and Aaron, ‘Because you did not trust in me enough to honor me as holy in the sight of the Israelites, you will not bring this community into the land I give them” (Numbers 20:12).
Our world is enamored with doing things our way. We even have a theme song that encourages our independence. I’ve heard Frank Sinatra belt his musical philosophy out in all sorts of contexts, from soccer games to weddings and funerals. My way is elevated above all. It’s the mantra for modern living. Of course, my way is easier because I’m at the center of it. My way caters to my individual desires and pride. When I do things my way, I underline a central, most beloved belief–life revolves around me.
God calls us to the opposite. Life in Christ revolves around him. Believers are called to live in ways that are antithetical to their human nature, approaching life counterintuitively by following mandates that might not make intellectual sense in the moment (see Romans 12). We submit to God’s authority as a conduit to security and joy even when we don’t understand it. As we learn to bend our will toward God’s holiness, fear of man, anxiety regarding the past, and dread of the future fades away. We experience more of who God is and the depth of his love for us. We accept God’s apples of answered prayer, however they’re presented, as mysteriously best for us.
Eventually, my little granddaughter grabbed a slice of apple and began chewing it, through her mess of tears and tantrums. The apple was good, even when sliced, and she and Nanny were able to share it. At that moment, I thanked God for her, for that day, and for the many apples he’s given me in ways I did not order up.
Crystal is a Christ-follower, wife, mother, counselor, and friend. She is passionate about connecting others with the truth of God's miraculous power and sustaining presence.
No comments.