Every believer keeps two boxes lying around. One is a box for God, and the other is a box the believer keeps for himself.
We try to keep God tucked neatly in his box along with everything we think he can do, everything we’ve ever seen him do, and everything we know about him. For many of us, all we know about him is “forgive me; help me.” When anything comes up that’s a little outside of what we’ve seen him do before, we won’t let him out of the box to touch it.
We also have a box for ourselves: “These are my talents. This is where people tell me I excel.”
Our response to any challenge, opportunity, or question is based on what we keep locked in these two boxes.
I went through the book of Ephesians with my teenage son, John Michael, not long ago. We wound up talking about the question “Why am I here?” I saw the opportunity to use an illustration from his recent experience in helping families interested in adoption.
On a Casting Crowns tour, John Michael worked the booth for Steven Curtis Chapman’s Show Hope event for potential adoptive families. At every concert, he trained volunteers on how to hand out information packs and ask the proper questions. It was great for John Michael as he developed his people skills.
Later, we attended the main Show Hope event that attracted people from all over the world. The place was teeming with families with adopted children. Nobody looked like his or her mama, and I didn’t know who belonged to whom.
Once we were back home and diving into Ephesians again, I turned to John Michael. “If you think back to that event the other night, you realize adopted kids were all over the place. How many of those packages have you given out at our concerts?”
He looked away and stared as if he were trying to count. “Well, maybe fifty at this concert and forty at that concert and . . .” These were all people who had stopped by and picked up a packet as they considered adoption.
“Man, out of fifty potential adoptive families, you know there is at least one orphan right now who is about to be lifted out of hopelessness and into a family, and it all started with you handing out a packet,” I said. “There’s a lot more going on than we sometimes realize.”
I could see his wheels turn as I tried to give him something concrete to grasp. Then I talked about his BroSis partner. BroSis is one of our youth ministries. We match younger students with more mature ones who encourage them and answer questions. John Michael hadn’t considered his impact on his little partner. I reminded him how huge it is when you’re small to have an older kid hang out with you and tell you you’re doing well and you’re wearing a cool shirt. It changes your whole day.
“A lot of times, we keep God in this little box of what we think he can do,” I said. “So when we encounter a problem that we’ve never seen him handle or that a specific Scripture doesn’t address, we think, God really can’t help me with this problem with my friend. But you’ve seen in our recent studies on friendships that God really does care about friendships.”
“Yeah,” he said.
“We got out of the box and saw that God is bigger than you thought. Well, he’s bigger than you think in a lot of ways. He’s bigger than things you might be struggling with, things you think about at night that you know you’re not supposed to be thinking about but your mind is racing and you’re trying to go to sleep and you can’t.”
I talked about his thought life because boys always make themselves the hero in some fantasy land. They’re Superman, and everyone needs them.
“God is big enough to help you with that stuff. But, guess what, it’s the same thing with you. We all put ourselves in a box too. We think, That guy is good at that, and this guy is good at this. I’m not really great at anything. I’ll just let them be the leader, and I’ll be the clown,” I said. “We decide for ourselves what God can do and what we can do. You’ve heard my story your whole life. In high school, I wasn’t good at anything I’m doing right now. I graduated with none of this in my head.”
John Michael nodded because he’s heard my story countless times. When I graduated from high school, I didn’t think about one thing I’m doing now. All I thought was, Draw pictures. Somehow, I wanted to make a living as an artist because I could sketch pretty pictures. But I had myself in this little box, and I had God in a box. But the more I get into his Word and the more I talk with him and see him answer my prayers, the more I build my spiritual vocabulary. My spiritual context grows. I start seeing with his eyes. I see more about God; I see more about myself; and I see that he wants us to rip open the boxes.
We are not alone in our struggle with a lack of faith. In Matthew 17, Jesus rebukes his disciples for their little faith. “If you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, ‘Move from here to there,’ and it will move, and nothing will be impossible for you” (verse 20).
When you first dive into the Word and grow the roots of your faith, like a newborn baby you crave spiritual milk. Later, Paul effectively says, “I’m giving you guys milk because that’s where you are, but now you need to get into the meat and start growing even deeper” (Hebrews 5:12).
This is why I have stressed our need to learn who God is and who we are.
I read James when I was twenty-one, and I read James a week ago. I looked at some verses and thought, There’s no way that verse was in there when I was twenty-one. How in the world did I miss something like that? As you grow closer to God, you build his vocabulary in your heart. You learn how he moves and speaks, and you grasp more from him than just “stop doing bad things and start doing good things.” You see his providence.
As a young believer, I didn’t know how to counsel a pregnant teenager. I didn’t know how to talk to someone struggling with homosexuality. I didn’t have a file for any of that. You’ll notice that none of those examples involve singing songs. The closer you grow to God, the more he knocks out the walls and takes you somewhere new.
As I grow my roots, I constantly learn. There’s no finish line, not until we reach heaven. As long as I’m wearing skin, I have to dig into the Word. Grasping who God is and who I am in Christ will affect how I reach out to others.
But we get scared, don’t we? God has so much more for us than our spiritual paralysis. Remember Philippians 2:12, where God tells us to work out what he has worked into us? This is the primary area where fear and a lack of faith thwart what God wants to do with us.
We pray for the Lord to use us, and he answers with opportunities to serve him. The thing is, most of our plans are more self-aggrandizing than God’s plans for us. He wants us to serve him where he planted us. The part of your life that you consider humdrum is exactly where Jesus wants to reach people through you.
You’re sitting at an end-of-season dinner and you’ve been praying for your teammates for a month, and out of nowhere Joe looks at you and says, “So, what’s all this Bible stuff y’all believe?”
Adrenaline shoots straight to your heart, and you think, This is my shot. This is what I’ve been praying for. And you choke. I don’t see how you can be a believer and not have experienced something like this at least once. Failure is a part of the process, but God will bring us back to the same point until we get it. Until we obey.
“All right, you’ve been digging in and trusting me,” he says. “Now let me redefine some things for you because it’s time to jump.”
These are our chances to thrive. This is what the Thrive life is all about.
“All right, you’ve prayed for your friend. Let’s do it. Talk to him.”
“OK, you’ve wanted to give, and you’ve been praying about it. You’ve been in the Word, and you read that book on biblical stewardship. Well, this family needs gas money.”
Again and again, a persistent God taps on our shoulder.
“Hey, you’ve been asking for opportunities to share and lead, and your pastor for small groups just asked for volunteers to lead a class. It’s time.”
It’s as if God smiles at us and tells us to shut up and jump.
Panama City, Florida, is a tourist trap with sugar-sand beaches. It has a long strip with places to rent scooters, ride go-carts, and bungee jump. You can pay $20 for a stranger named Skip to tie a rubber band around your waist so you can jump from a nosebleed-high platform. It makes perfect sense when you’re on the ground. You just know it’s going to be awesome. You gaze up and it looks high but not all that high, so you walk up the stairs. You’re probably a good two or three flights up before you look down for the first time. That’s when you realize your heart is pounding through your temples.
Then you reach the top and meet Skip right before you look over the side. Skip has to pry your white knuckles off the rail so he can fasten the strap around you. Skip is maybe seventeen. He’s running the show, and hopefully he paid attention when he tied all of those knots eight hours ago. You’re pretty sure he’s been wearing those clothes for about four days.
Normally, Skip and you wouldn’t hang out much. You probably wouldn’t invite him to dinner. But suddenly you feel the need to talk for a while. Let’s just hang out. “How long have you been doing this, Skip? Tell me about yourself.”
Skip grins as he stands in front of the gate that opens to the jump platform. Skip moves out of the way, and you see why he is smiling. On the gate is a sign with bold letters: SHUT UP AND JUMP. Skip will tell you the sign is there for a reason. When people finally reach the jumping point, they want to talk. The longer they stand there and talk, the less likely they are to jump.
One of Skip’s jobs is to get them to shut up quickly, and he starts counting. “Ready? One, two . . .”
“Hold on, hold on. I’ll count. Let me count before I jump.”
But the ones who ask to count never count. If they step up to that line two or three times, it’s not going to happen.
Skip’s sign reminds me of what happens in our walk with the Lord. We know exactly what he wants. He tells us it’s time to get serious about digging into roots and seeking him with our whole hearts. It’s time to establish a regular prayer time. It’s time to commit to knowing God and making him known. It’s time to reach out and go on a mission trip or visit a neighbor. It’s time to share the gospel with a classmate.
We, meanwhile, want to start counting. “Well, maybe we can do one more study. Let me listen to this new podcast I got today. Maybe I should do a little more training.” We’re trained well beyond our obedience.
Jesus sees our hesitance, grins like Skip as he reminds us of our eternal tether to him, and points to the sign. “You asked for this. Here’s your chance,” he says. “Your weakness doesn’t bother me. Your past doesn’t bother me. I don’t need you. I want you. Let’s go.”
It seems like he’s said it to me a thousand times. So with a smile on my face and all of the love of Jesus in my heart, I now say it to you: What’s holding you back? What are you waiting for?
Shut up and jump.
Point to Remember
We box in God and ourselves with wrong perceptions; God says jump.