Goodbye to Control and Safety, Hello to my Good King

"Goodbye to control, it's such an illusion

Hello to the truth of my need

The promise of presence is all that I have now

Sometimes I don't believe."

As we sang these words at FOCUS camp earlier this summer, they guided me in prayer for the students attending the camp. I prayed that God would show them their need for Him. However, over the past few months, God has been showing me MY need for Him.

Raising support for InterVarsity has been one of the more challenging experiences of my Christian life. In my naivete, when people asked me if I had raised support before, I would reply, "Oh sure, I have been on short-term trips and He has always provided, so it'll be no problem."

And although I still only have 40% of the goal pledged, I do trust that God will eventually pull all of the necessary funds in. What has been challenging is not so much trusting God for the funding, but more the interpersonal dynamics that come with raising support. This dynamic of the ministry has once again called into question where I derive my value and how I too often value others' opinons of me instead of God's opinion.

Last night at church we heard a fabulous sermon about living your faith outloud, based on Nehemiah 1. The preacher said that when we decide to lauch out in faith that people (me included) will get uncomfortable and that our reputations may suffer. He challenged us to consider what our lives might look like if faith was our first response to every situation. He promised us that average people can be extraordinary when our God is big.

This sermon supported the lessons I just "learned"/read about in The God I Love, by Joni Earickson Tada. At one point in her life, she and her co-workers visited Ghana to deliver wheelchairs to the disabled. The pastor greeted them with open arms saying, "Welcome to Africa, where our God is bigger."

Nehemiah learned that God was big through prayer. Though the circumstances loomed large, he knew that his God was big and able. Instead of going and doing, which is often our first response, Nehemiah realized he couldn't control the situation; so, he instead fasted, prayed, mourned, stayed and surrendered to God. As if to underscore this point to me, when I arrived home from church last night, there was an email from a donor. She and her husband came into some surprise money this week and decided to send it my way.

In my flesh, I have found myself believing that my ministry at Penn won't amount to much due to the fact that the funds haven't been raised in my timing. In my devotions this morning, God addressed this issue with me. Isaiah 54:1-6 reads:

"Sing, barren woman, who has never had a baby. Fill the air with song, you who've never experienced childbirth! You're ending up with far more children than all those childbearing women." God says so!" Clear lots of ground for your tents! Make your tents large. Spread out! Think big! Use plenty of rope, drive the tent pegs deep. You're going to need lots of elbow room for your growing family. You're going to take over whole nations; you're going to resettle abandoned cities. Don't be afraid—you're not going to be embarrassed. Don't hold back—you're not going to come up short. You'll forget all about the humiliations of your youth, and the indignities of being a widow will fade from memory. For your Maker is your bridegroom, his name, God-of-the-Angel-Armies! Your Redeemer is The Holy of Israel, known as God of the whole earth. You were like an abandoned wife, devastated with grief, and God welcomed you back, Like a woman married young and then left," says your God."

Last night the preacher said that if we don't choose safety, that if we follow the Lord beyond what we can control, we will truly experience Him. I am not in control; He is. He will provide the funds for this ministry and He will yield the harvest at Penn.

I realized this morning that I am absolutely terrified to pray that I would be acquainted with the Lord and share in His sufferings. Please pray that I would absolutely trust our God who is not safe, but who is absolutely good.

"Then he isn't safe?" said Lucy.
"Safe?" said Mr. Beaver. "Don't you hear what Mrs. Beaver tells you? Who said anything about being safe? 'Course he isn't safe. But he's good. He's the King, I tell you."