Day 26

Friday, October 8, 2004

I gained two pounds in one day, without a pizza or a banana—no food at all! It doesn’t make sense, yet it’s true. I’m pretty sure it’s not water weight. It’s existential or transcendent or something, perhaps miraculous. Perhaps it’s the gift I need to revel in another day to finish this fast. I’d love to know God’s plan for the next 14 days—to know if I make it or if I fold. But God never tells me these things, so I unfortunately settle to worry. When I was single, I worried I’d never marry. Then, in right timing, a friendship turned into a flame and we married. I wasn’t ready before and would’ve been overcooked later. But all of God’s timing while I was being prepared and cooked didn’t feel perfect when I was in it.

The before is always the more difficult part for me. If the grand Orchestrator would only tell me the plan before, I’d be more content. I’m sure the endearing Father in him would love to lean over and whisper the certain path in my ear, yet his wisdom knows I’d grow self-sufficient—without trust or faith—the very things that make life life.

After my time in Scotland, I headed to L’Abri, taking a plane to London, then a train an hour south to Greatham. I stepped off the train and into rural England. I called for a cab but got no answer, so I asked for directions and began walking. After an hour of dragging two suitcases up narrow roads, past farmhouses and fields, I spotted the street sign and the huge English manor. Meadows stretched from beside the home toward a forest. An old schoolhouse and stables also sat on the grounds. I walked in the front door and checked in with a young lady from Sweden. She told me all visitors are expected to help with the practical tasks involved in living at the manor. So the day is split into two halves, one for study and one for work. She said I would meet individually with one of the theologians a few times during my stay. She then showed me to my room and said dinner would be served in half an hour. Rick, one of the theologians on staff, came by at dinner and made an appointment with me.

I showed up at 9:00 the following morning and knocked. “Come on in,” I heard from inside. Rick was in his study, sitting in an armchair on the other side of an Oriental rug. He had a pen and notebook in his lap. “Good morning, Russ. Take a seat.” He motioned to a green corduroy couch—definitely something I could nap on.

“So, tell me why you’ve come to L’Abri.”

“Well, I grew up hearing about this place from my best friend’s dad. It always sounded like something I’d like to try. Then I graduated college early and decided to spend a semester in Scotland before going into seminary, so I was in the area.”

“What were you doing in Scotland?”

“Serving the youth in a small church.”

“Is that what you want to do—youth ministry? You mentioned seminary. . . .”

“That is the question—what to do with my life. I’ve been giving a lot of thought to what I’d like to study during my couple of weeks here, and I think I want to study God’s will.”

“Well, there’s a nice, easy topic for us to talk about.” Rick went on to tell me about his personal journey of wrestling through his purpose, the way God slowly led him through young adulthood, education, bad jobs, finding a wife, and eventually here. He said he wasn’t always confident at every turn, but each turn came in its time. He went on to talk about the three wills of God.

“Russ, there’s all sorts of writing and lectures I’ll assign for you to study, and there’s a million thoughts about God’s will for our lives. But for me, I haven’t found anything more sound than the idea of the three wills of God.”

“Right. I’ve heard of this: the moral will, the personal will. What’s the other one?”

“The sovereign will, sometimes called the providential will of God. The teaching says this sovereign will of God is the grand themes—God’s purposes for humanity and the world apart from humanity’s ability to alter them. They are purposes like God’s glory and supremacy, the idea that redemption comes through God’s Son.

“The moral will of God is the dos and don’ts,” Rick went on. “It’s the parameters God puts on our lives for our well-being.”

“Like bumpers on the sides of a bowling lane?”

“Yes, exactly; the boundaries guide us forward. And the third will of God is the personal will of God. This is the will we all wrestle with, because we can’t read about it in the Bible, nor do many of us get some grand revelation from God about our future.”

“Yeah, I’ve been waiting for that.”

“Me too, but usually it doesn’t happen, so we live our lives the best we can in line with the moral will of God, allowing God’s grace to be our sufficiency, letting it lead us to desire the sovereign will of God to occur in our lives. When we do that, the personal will of God begins to play out in our lives without much force from our end.”

“Like a guarantee?”

“Sort of, but not a guarantee away from difficulty or suffering, just a guarantee that God will guide your steps as you seek him and make decisions.”

“So what part do I play in making decisions?”

“You still make decisions; you just seek wisdom before, during, and after. Russ, spiritual maturity isn’t always hearing God before a decision. Sometimes it’s making a decision in faith. We don’t want to rush decisions—rarely will patience be a mistake—but we also have to recognize that God works through our decisions. So it’s all about, at every stage, preparing and making decisions with open hands.”

“Whatever you want, God.”

“Right. Whatever you want, God.”

Rick had me read the story of David. Rick said to read it remembering that even clarity can become a god. David penned many psalms while being pursued by King Saul. David hid in caves, praising God and sometimes wondering when God would deliver him. Before David became a threat to Saul’s throne, he was a mere shepherd. One day Samuel the prophet declared David would be king, but David’s future wasn’t paved with royal meals and comfortable lounging. David knew discomfort, pain, and struggle. It’s a story about God leading someone the long way around.

David became famous in his victory over Goliath, but I don’t think David was sure how the battle would end. The story says he picked up five stones from the creek to use in his slingshot. David knew his past successes fighting off beasts that preyed on his sheep, and this Goliath was another beast. But he wasn’t sure God would bless his first stone to take the giant down; maybe it would take three stones. David grabbed five stones just in case things got messy, because David knew living in faith doesn’t mean giants always fall quickly.

During my study times at L’Abri I would read and listen to the lectures Rick gave me. Then I would walk through the meadows surrounding the manor home.

I’m not much of a man of prayer. I think more than I pray. During this fast I’ve been monitoring my prayers. I started with fierce prayers, trying to twist God’s arm, badgering him to see things my way. But I no longer feel right marching before God and ordering him around, as though I know what’s best for my life and everyone else around me. I’m trying to be more open with it all.