Then the LORD said to Abram, “Know for certain that your offspring will be sojourners in a land that is not theirs and will be servants there, and they will be afflicted for four hundred years. But I will bring judgment on the nation that they serve, and afterward they shall come out with great possessions. As for you, you shall go to your fathers in peace; you shall be buried in a good old age. And they shall come back here in the fourth generation…” (Genesis 15:13-16, ESV).
Besides the usual seasonal blahs I associate with Tennessee’s grey January weather, I’m coping with a (thus far, blessedly mild) return of a few ME symptoms, a rather barren season of life, and a dose of reality that led to the digital sulks permeating my last post. I feel it critical to state that my own lament, like most of the laments in the Psalms, does not reflect a turning away from God and His goodness, but a pressing into Him even in moments where I can’t see, feel, touch, taste, or otherwise sense His goodness. In my continued Scripture reading and prayer, He reminds me of the less popular truths behind His call.
Bleak seasons are a reminder that God is good because goodness is His nature, not because of what He does or does not do. His goodness has nothing to do with my subjective feelings about either Him or my circumstances.
As I’ve pondered my own understanding of God’s call to write about what He teaches me and His work in my life, it occurred to me how much of my own expectations I added to the call. My sense of failure isn’t God’s fault – it’s mine. He never promised anything; He just gave me a directive.
I embellished it. I see my Western background showing up clearly here.
You see, historical Middle Eastern peoples did not necessarily think of “God’s promises and call to me,” so much as “God’s promise and call to my house (my clan, my family, my people).” It’s a nuance most of us overlook in the hyper-individualistic West, but one worth examining.
When God calls us to do something, He doesn’t necessarily mean we will soon enjoy the fruits of our labors. Indeed, often our lives on earth may end before our cultivated areas bud, much less produces ripened fruit. His plan is much more far-reaching than our feeble little lives; a fact we easily overlook or forget.
We can see this in Abraham’s life. God promised Abraham many things – an heir, the land of Canaan, that all nations of the world would be blessed through him. Still, Abraham waited around 25 years1 between the promise of an heir and the birth of Isaac, the son of the covenant. The only land he owned in Canaan was the cave and field2 of Machpelah where he and Sarah were buried, and the Blessing for all the nations of the world would not come for another 2,000 years or so3.
Then there’s Moses, the lawgiver and the shepherd of Israel through the decades of wilderness wandering. Although his calling was incredible, like many of us, his obedience was less than perfect. His was the privilege of leading God’s people out of Egypt, yet while he was allowed to see the Promised Land from a mountain, he did not set a mortal foot inside its borders4.
There are many other examples – these are just the two that come most readily to mind. It’s not a popular view, but it is important to remember that God’s promises and call do not come with a guarantee of worldly success. They DO come with a promise of His presence, His glory, His purpose, and His goodness.
Sometimes I lose sight of the truth that He is my shield and my great reward. God Himself is the reward, not the fruit of my labors nor the gifts He gives. Just Him. Which is more than I deserve.
Even so, He blesses me in small ways to remind me that His love, while broader in scope than my tiny imagination can cope with, is also quite personal. Today, my King blessed my bird nerdiness with a beautiful surprise right in the middle of my communion with Him.
And I am reminded His ways are not my ways; His thoughts are not my thoughts. I am humbled, content, and grateful to play even a small, invisible part in the work of a Kingdom crossing all barriers of geography, ethnicity, and even time.
When I think of it in those terms, how silly it seems to imagine my part as anything more than a trifling contribution to a magnum opus far beyond any mortal scope.
- See Genesis 15:2-4; 16:15-17:1; 18:10; 21:1-5 ↩︎
- See Genesis 23:17-20; 25:9-10 ↩︎
- Matthew 1 ↩︎
- Exodus 34 ↩︎
Running the Race 
Amen! He’s been speaking to me about simply following his instructions and leaving the outcome to him. Your words “My sense of failure isn’t God’s fault – it’s mine. He never promised anything; He just gave me a directive.” confirm this! While we know he will always fulfill his promises because he IS a good Father, our hope is in him not the promises. I’m consciously switching my focus to him rather than the promise or outcome even when, as you point out, we can unconsciously focus on the outcome of a vision rather than the giver of the vision or calling. One day, one directive at a time, my friend and sister in Christ! 😉
LikeLiked by 2 people
Amen!
LikeLike