What is God up to?

I am reading this book called Walking With God by John Elderedge and one story really caught my attention tonight. It made me think of the letter I wrote to my doctor and the fact that I still haven't sent it. Maybe this is why.

What Is God Up To?

I'm sitting in front of my computer this morning, my finger frozen over the left click button on the mouse.

My email program is asking, "Are you sure you want to delete this message?" And I'm not so sure. It's SUCH a good email. It's incontestable. Undeniable. It's long overdue. Someone has ticked me off and I've written what I feel to be is a very honest, straightforward, somewhat shaming and altogether irrefutable reply. I'm about to hit the Send button with the same satisfaction you see on the face of a player who gets to slam dunk a ball he stole on a fast break during the Final Four. This is going to be so good.

Then God says, don't do it.

Don't do it?! Awww. Something in me sinks. The ref just blew a whistle. There's a foul on the play. Dang. It was going to be so good. It was deserved. Why can't I send this? I don't need for God to reply. I know why. The fact that I've found the whole process so utterly delicious tells me why. (You know that delicious. You have these moments too - those conversations you have in your head where you are brilliant and the other person is speechless.) I can sense the Spirit saying, It won't do any good. They aren't in a place to hear it. Let it go."

A long pause. A deep sigh. Things are shifting down inside. I am accepting more than guidance here. I am accepting change. Down in my soul where the juncture of my will and my heart meet. I am accepting transformation. I click Yes and let the whole thing go.

Jesus says that as our Good Shepherd, he is leading us. What an encouraging thought. Jesus is leading you, and he is leading me. He is shepherding us. I can feel something in my heart loosening even now as I consider this. Okay. I don't have to make life happen on my own. Now, if Christ takes it upon himself to lead, then our part is to follow. And you'll find that it helps a great deal in your following if you know what God is up to. True, we may not know exactly what God is up to in this or that event in our lives. "Why didn't I get that job?" "How come she won't return my calls?" "Why haven't my prayers healed this cancer?" I don't know. Sometimes we can get clarity, and sometimes we can't.

But whatever else is going on, we can know this: God is always up to our transformation.

God wants us to be happy. Really. "I have come that they may have life, and have it to the full" (John 10:10)

But he knows that in order for us to be truly happy, we have to be whole. Another word for that is holy. We have to be restored.

Think of it this way -- think of how you feel when you really screwed things up. The look on your son's face as you yell at him. The distance that has grown between you even though you apologized. For the hundredth time. How it tears you up inside to indulge in romantic fantasies about someone else's spouse. You want to, but you don't want that, but you wish you could, but you really don't, and why is this going on inside? The guilt you feel when you lie straight-faced to a friend. And they find out. The hours you've wasted harboring resentment. The embarrassment of your addictions. You know what plagues you.

Now, what would it be like to never, ever do it again? Not even to struggle with it. What would your life be like if you were free of all that haunts you?

Oh, the joy, the utter relief it would be to be transformed. That in itself would be more happiness than most of us ever experience. And - as if that were not enough - it would free us to live the life God has for us to live.

My friends, this is what God's up to. This is where our Shepherd is headed. Whatever else is going on in our lives, this is going on. He is committed to our transformation. So, if this is what God's up to, wouldn't it make sense what we be more intentional in partnering with him in our transformation? Part of me wishes I could have sent the email. But the deeper, truer part of me is relieved that God stopped me. It would have hurt that person. I would have regretted it later. It would have created a crisis that would have taken hours of emotional energy to undo. I can't begin to number the disasters God has averted like that - the things he's stopped me from saying, the choices I would have made has he not intervened.

I want to walk with God.