To be Crucified

Recently one of our small groupies embarked on a mission trip to Ecuador. Her and her daughter took this trip not knowing much about the culture they were going to experience. Upon arriving at the airport....her daughter was met with some "unwelcomed" verbal nuances that understandably made her feel very uncomfortable. A complete u-turn at this point sounded reasonable, however, once they were in closed and safe quarters things began to calm down and they were met with some comforting local ministry workers who vowed that they would be well taken care of...and they were. Upon returning home from their mission trip they were just beaming with excitement! They had an absolutely wonderful, unforgettable and life changing experience. And to think that all would have been missed had they followed their initial fears and turned around and come home.


As we were discussing over dinner one night the unique and enjoyable aspects of their trip we started to consider what an experience it would be if I were to go on the next trip. Of course the subject of having to fly accompanied this idea and the idea of flying has never been a popular one with me. After hearing this my dearly beloved small groupie loaded up her ammunition and preceded to fire, with perfect precision, at my need to "control" my surroundings. In fact I believe her words were, and I quote, as I know I will invite her to read this blog, "boy, you really don't like to give up control do you?" Now, there are not too many people in my life that will just up and "shoot" me with bullets that really hit home with my soul and make me think, "Gee...am I that obvious? Is my control factor that apparent in my life?" So I decided to look up the word control in the dictionary just to get an accurate description of my bullet wound!
Control: To check, test, or verify by evidence or experiments; to incorporate suitable controls in a controlled experiment; To exercise restraining or directing influence over; to have power over; and my favorite! to reduce the incidence or severity of...


I believe we all at some time have wrestled with the control or lack of it in our lives. Especially at those difficult times when things are just not going as we would like, and after exhausting all of our human efforts to force the issue we discover that there really isn't anything we can do...our hands are tied.


It is comforting though to know that our Lord, Jesus is not immune to this type of suffering. His last days on earth, particularly in the Garden of Gethsamane, reminds me of this. When he was praying to His Father in heaven. Jesus knew what lay ahead...and he was scared. The bible says that as he was praying "drops of blood" fell from his face. The heartache He must have gone through is more than what I could ever endure and much more intense than my temporary woes here on earth. Jesus, of his own volition, was not in control..and yet even though he could have changed that, he didn't. He accepted Gods will and in the end purchased for us a place in heaven. And I would imagine that as Jesus was praying..he was reminded of all that God had done for him up to that point. God's faithfulness in all areas of His ministry....God's provision and comfort after Jesus' 40 days of fasting in the desert, His Father's tender words of love at His baptism.


I am reminded these days as well of God's faithfulness. God has always been in my life. I cannot remember a time when He was not there. I can remember times when I left him...but somehow I always knew God was never very far away. Always providing...always rescuing...always forgiving. So why..is it so hard for us to remember the track record when hard times come around again....and again...and again? We worry, we fret we do everything humanly possible to "reduce the incidence or severity" of what we are going through or what we "think" will happen if we don't do something.


Maybe it's not so much about forgetting the track record as it is about just not wanting to go through it at all! And as I sit here in my Garden of Gethsamane..racking my brain trying to figure out what last ditch effort I can make to change the outcome, I realize the real reason behind my insanity...I don't want to fly! I don't want to embark out of my comfort zone...have my limits stretched...be all that I can be...I don't want to get on that plane! And lately I feel as though there are band aids on my band aids. Yet there is a part of me, maybe that which accompanied Jesus in the desert, that won't give in. Because I know in my heart of hearts that God, for some unmistakable reason is doing a work in me, and true to His word, He will not stop until it is completed. So, I may as well stop whining...saddle up my horse.....stock up on the chocolate and Merlot and just get on the plane. There is a destination...if not in this world then in eternity. God is the pilot and while I am on the plane it may go well with me if I take a trip more often to the cockpit and get to know my pilot a little better. Because the more you know someone the more you trust them...right?