This morning as I was meditating on Isaiah 26:8-9, my daughter sat at the table across from me, coloring in her journal. After about 15 minutes or so of us engaging in our separate activities, I turned to her and said, “Baby Girl, come meditate on this passage of Scripture with me. If you’re willing to learn it, I’ll teach it to you.”
A stank-faced look appeared on her face instantaneously and it became apparent that my suggestion was odious to her. She then began to vocalize her resistance to my plea for participation. I pushed back for a moment, but when I saw that the only way to get her to comply would have been to force her, I withdrew, knowing that another opportunity will come when I will find her to be more willing than she is now.
This experience got me to thinking: My responsibility as a father is not just to provide for, protect, and mature my daughter in the things of the world; my responsibility is also to raise her in the fear and admonition of the Lord . . . to disciple her in a way that enables her to grow in the Lord as she grows in the natural. But the greatest obstacle for accomplishing this is her level of willingness. I need her to be willing.
Yes, I am the father and she is the daughter, and yes, I can command her to comply and make her do my bidding. But I know in my heart that if I command her, her compliance will be forever connected to the command, and she’ll never develop an internal locus of control in regards to her spiritual life. Commands may facilitate the momentary adjustment of a behavior, but they do not facilitate lifelong growth in spiritual maturity, especially when one’s obedience is not accompanied by understanding.
There are times when my daughter is very willing, and there are times when she is unwilling. My desire is to increase her capacity to be willing; this is all I desire. I don’t need her to know any more than she does; if she is willing, I can teach her. I don’t need her to have wisdom or discernment; if she is willing, she can benefit from my wisdom and discernment. I don’t need her to strive to memorize Scripture or spend hours in prayer. If she is willing, she can simply pray along with me, or repeat the Scriptures after me. I don’t even need her to be more disciplined; if she is willing, she can simply piggyback on my discipline.
Perhaps it is not an overstatement to say that willingness is 90% of the discipleship process. Remember when Jesus wept over Jerusalem from the Mt of Olives? His lament was that his longing to gather her children the way a mother hen gathers her young remained unfulfilled because they were unwilling! Or even when Jesus bad his inner circle of disciples to watch with him for an hour, but instead they slept while he wept before the Father. His diagnosis was that while their spirits were willing, their flesh was weak . . . and the weakness of their flesh was stronger than the willingness of their spirits.
When you come to the place at which the willingness of your spirit overtakes the weakness of your flesh, you will find that you will grow exponentially in your relationship with the Lord. How often the Lord has sought to draw me to himself, but I was unwilling? How often has he sought to lead me beside still waters, or make me lie down in green pastures, or lead me in paths of righteousness, or even through the valley of the shadow of death in order to teach me not to fear evil, but I was unwilling?
The cry of my heart this morning is, Lord, I’m willing. Where you lead me, I will follow.
Yes, in the way of your judgments, O Lord, we have waited for you; The desire of our soul is for your name and for the remembrance of you. – Isaiah 26:8
Waiting upon the Lord is about waiting for his direction, for his guidance, for his leading . . . This is what it means to trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding. My own understanding may tell me that I need to do such and such . . . My own understanding may tell me that I need to go to such and such . . . But the heart that trusts the Lord is always in the act of subordinating its own understanding for the will of God.
We spend so much of our time trying to persuade God to become willing to do something that we desire, but the Father is always willing. The question is not whether or not the Father is willing; he is willing. The question is whether or not we are willing.
Are you willing? Are you willing to allow God to blow up your plan? Are you willing to allow God to change your direction, to redirect your efforts, to thwart your intentions? Are you willing to trust that God’s plan is infinitely greater than yours? If so, you will find this place of surrender to be the path toward perfect peace and the abiding presence of the Lord.