Hands to the Plow: Thoughts on Not Giving Up
I’m standing at my bookshelf doing it again, going back and forth in my head between what I should read and what I want to read. I’m in a story of so much should vs. so much want. I should read the Bible, but I’ve always been the stubborn kind, the do what I want kind. I’m going for the fiction, the classics, the good stuff. I’m going for anything except the Bible. “Archaic and tired, let it gather dust. I’ve heard the stories a million times already. Give me the Hemingway.”
During the summer of seventh grade I became a follower of Jesus. There was a keynote speaker and flashy lights in a room filled with thousands of people. There was the promise of being loved forever no matter what. No matter what? Pray a prayer and never die. Sure, no problem. It was all very exciting.
It’s been nine years since that summer. Nine years of mountain high and valley low.
Sometimes I find myself wanting that summer back. I find myself wanting a room full of excited people to wake me up and remind me it’s worth the cost to move beyond myself daily. I find myself wanting the bright lights and larger than life speaker to make sure my attention doesn’t get cloudy as each hour passes.
More than any of that though, I find myself wishing to have the same heart I had then- a heart that acted as if it was loved for no reason at all, a heart that didn’t wrestle with the tension of disappointment and fear and doubt.
The reality of what I experienced as a youth sometimes feels far from what I experience on the regular. Consequently, God sometimes feels far.
Lately though, I’ve been thinking about what it looks like to fight the good fight. I’ve been thinking about the hard to swallow truth that excitement and emotion will wear off. Following Jesus is difficult and sometimes the payoff feels like a lie. The story doesn’t end there though. No matter how hard it sometimes feels being a Disciple is a worthy fight. It’s the best taste of Heaven we get until we get there. It’s the only way we can come alive and truly live here on Earth.
“Fight the good fight of the faith. Take hold of the eternal life to which you were called when you made your good confession in the presence of many witnesses.”
One thing I know is true: fighting alone is miserable and nearly impossible. Our relationships, in there very nature, are infectious. Much like the trends of fashion and music, trends are also born in our hearts.
Over the last few weeks I’ve had several conversations with people who are bored, tired, and ready to throw in the towel. The cost of knowing Jesus is too much; the call to complete selflessness overwhelms. There’s a sweeping feeling in all of this conversation. Silently, we justify where we are because of where they are.
Your friends are in a good place; you’re in a good place.
Your friends are in a bad place; you’re in a bad place.
Your friends are tired of following Jesus; you’re tired of following Jesus.
See what I mean?
If we want to fight the good fight- to withstand the blows that are bound to come- we’re going to need each other. It’s particularly hard to pursue God in a community of people who are walking away and it’s significantly easier to pursue God in a community of people who moving towards Him.
For those of us who are tempted to give up, it’s not that we want to be burned out on religion and over processed by the Church. We don’t want to be at the place of frustration, the place of constant doubting. We find ourselves praying to what feels like a silent God, we ask for miracles that don’t come, and we keep looking for the abundant life in what seems like some kind of cruel joke. This isn’t what we bargained for and it feels harder than we imagined.
The good news is that we aren’t alone. We aren’t alone with our fears about God. We aren’t alone when we grow weary. We aren’t alone when the still small voice doesn’t seem to be whispering our way.
Most of the time I find myself challenged by the hard work of being a disciple of Christ. Most of the time I find myself flailing. There are certainly days when I want to walk away, days when I wonder if there is something better. But at the end of the day I remain convinced there’s something greater that keeps me from jumping ship. The truth that I am forever loved and accepted never fully escapes me. Jesus still makes sense when my heart hurts and when life doesn’t happen like I hoped. The more I confess my being tired of following, the more He heals my messed up idea of what following looks like.
Excitement is sure to fade and emotion will never sustain a relationship with Christ. That’s why we’ve got to think deeply about what Luke 14:28-30 gets at.
“Suppose one of you wants to build a tower. Won’t you first sit down and estimate the cost to see if you have enough money to complete it? For if you lay the foundation and are not able to finish it, everyone who sees it will ridicule you, saying, ‘This person began to build and wasn’t able to finish.”
We’ve got to set a foundation on what we know is real, not on what simply feels good. The foundation is this: The Father wants to be in communion with His people. Since the beginning of time, it’s all He’s ever wanted. The logic goes something like this:
You keep sinning? I forgive you.
You feel alone? Let me comfort you.
You can’t afford food? I’ll provide.
You want out? It’ll break my heart, but you’re free to go.
For me, that changes everything. Suddenly it becomes less about what book I choose and more about the sheer fact that I don’t give up. Following Him isn’t so much about perfection as it is about carrying on through every season. It’s not about moving in all the right ways as much as it is about simply being with Him. Let’s walk through our days holding to the old and still very alive truth that God created us to be His.
