No, LORD

I started reading Chapter 6 on the front end of a miserable cold, and set Foster's book down for the rest of the week. I noticed that this story stayed with me all week, however. In a nutshell, a college student was struggling with a sermon she had heard. She said to the preacher, "Your message was so compelling, but I'm afraid to truly make Christ Lord, afraid of what he'll ask of me." The preacher said to her, "You know it is possible to say 'No,' and it is possible to say 'Lord,' but it is not really possible to say, 'No, Lord.'" (pg. 112, Freedom of Simplicity) That's the phrase that has haunted me for days now.

No, Lord.

How easy it is to be tempted into saying those words, as if I know better than God what is good for me.

No, Lord.

How enticing it is to try to "protect" myself from some wild and risky adventure God might ask me to take on.

But "No, Lord" does not bring inner peace. It does not simplify life, but complicates it. It puts us at odds with God's purposes and desires for us. It sends us running away from God like the prodigal son.

We run headlong, once again, to a paradox: "true self fulfillment comes only through self-denial. There is no other way." (pg. 113)

In running after our own ease, comfort and desires instead of toward those things that God has equipped and called us to do, we find ourselves comfortable, but miserable, wondering if this is all there is to life. We find ourselves either bored and restless, or filled with frenetic and meaningless activity that does not bring deep joy.

But when we say "Yes, Lord" and agree to a difficult, uncomfortable, maybe even risky thing that God clearly wants us to do, we discover that though the work may be hard, the reason for that work fills us with a sense of value and purpose, and we discover that we have had a taste of true "self-fulfillment."

So is it going to be no?

Or is it going to be Lord?