How To Stop Talking Yourself Out Of Obedience
Most of us are not stuck because we lack information. We are stuck because there is something we already know we are supposed to do, and we keep finding reasons why this is not the week for it. The conversation goes on in the background all day, and it is remarkably persuasive. You have heard both sides of it. You have made the case and answered the case and closed the case, and somehow the thing still is not done.
Here is what makes that conversation dangerous. We assume the argument is between us and us. It usually is not. When God gives clear direction and we start listing reasons, we are not settling something with ourselves. We are quietly overruling him, and because nobody else is in the room, it feels like discernment instead of avoidance.
Scripture does not treat this as a small thing. Paul told the Ephesians that we are saved by grace through faith, and that it is a gift no amount of effort could earn. Then he kept going and said something we tend to skip: we are God's handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works that he prepared in advance for us to do. Grace saved us from something, and grace also saved us to something. Both halves are in the same sentence. The problem is that God preparing good works for you is not the same thing as those good works getting done. He is at work in you, but he does not force a work out of you.
This is where a lot of confusion about grace clears up. Titus says the grace of God appeared bringing salvation, and then says grace teaches us to say no to ungodliness and to live self-controlled lives right now, in this present age. Grace does not only redeem you, it directs you. And when it directs you, it also supplies what you need to follow through, which is why Hebrews invites us to come boldly to the throne and receive mercy and find grace to help. Saving, teaching, empowering. Same grace, three motions, all of them available and none of them automatic. A teacher can teach brilliantly and the student can still refuse to cooperate.
Think about the widow in 1 Kings 17. The famine had taken everything down to a handful of flour and a little oil, and she was gathering sticks to cook one last meal for herself and her son before they died. Then a prophet showed up and asked her to make him something first. It is hard to imagine a worse moment for that request. Notice what Elijah said before he said anything else: do not be afraid. Fear is almost always the first argument the enemy leads with, and it comes dressed up as prudence. What if there is not enough. What if nothing happens. What if you look foolish. She could have said no thank you and been completely reasonable about it. She said yes instead, and the flour and oil did not run out.
There is a picture from Sunday I have not been able to shake. You need a specific bowl for Thanksgiving dinner, and it is sitting in the fridge with leftovers in it and plastic wrap over the top. You have a decision to make in that moment: empty it out, or go find a different bowl. Most of us just go find a different bowl, and God has plenty of other bowls. That is not a threat, it is just true. Paul said the mind of Christ looks like emptying yourself and humbling yourself, and the reason both matter is that a vessel already full of your own plans has no room for his.
So here is the one thing to do this week. Name it. Write down the single thing God has already made clear to you, the one you have been quietly litigating, and then take the first concrete step on it before Sunday. Not the whole thing, just step one. Make the call, send the money, have the conversation, say the apology, sign up to serve. And if the step is bigger than you, ask for help, from him and from a real person, because grace flows toward humility and pride simply will not ask.
You do not have to figure out the end from the beginning. You only have to say what he is waiting to hear. Lord, I am willing.
Here is what makes that conversation dangerous. We assume the argument is between us and us. It usually is not. When God gives clear direction and we start listing reasons, we are not settling something with ourselves. We are quietly overruling him, and because nobody else is in the room, it feels like discernment instead of avoidance.
Scripture does not treat this as a small thing. Paul told the Ephesians that we are saved by grace through faith, and that it is a gift no amount of effort could earn. Then he kept going and said something we tend to skip: we are God's handiwork, created in Christ Jesus to do good works that he prepared in advance for us to do. Grace saved us from something, and grace also saved us to something. Both halves are in the same sentence. The problem is that God preparing good works for you is not the same thing as those good works getting done. He is at work in you, but he does not force a work out of you.
This is where a lot of confusion about grace clears up. Titus says the grace of God appeared bringing salvation, and then says grace teaches us to say no to ungodliness and to live self-controlled lives right now, in this present age. Grace does not only redeem you, it directs you. And when it directs you, it also supplies what you need to follow through, which is why Hebrews invites us to come boldly to the throne and receive mercy and find grace to help. Saving, teaching, empowering. Same grace, three motions, all of them available and none of them automatic. A teacher can teach brilliantly and the student can still refuse to cooperate.
Think about the widow in 1 Kings 17. The famine had taken everything down to a handful of flour and a little oil, and she was gathering sticks to cook one last meal for herself and her son before they died. Then a prophet showed up and asked her to make him something first. It is hard to imagine a worse moment for that request. Notice what Elijah said before he said anything else: do not be afraid. Fear is almost always the first argument the enemy leads with, and it comes dressed up as prudence. What if there is not enough. What if nothing happens. What if you look foolish. She could have said no thank you and been completely reasonable about it. She said yes instead, and the flour and oil did not run out.
There is a picture from Sunday I have not been able to shake. You need a specific bowl for Thanksgiving dinner, and it is sitting in the fridge with leftovers in it and plastic wrap over the top. You have a decision to make in that moment: empty it out, or go find a different bowl. Most of us just go find a different bowl, and God has plenty of other bowls. That is not a threat, it is just true. Paul said the mind of Christ looks like emptying yourself and humbling yourself, and the reason both matter is that a vessel already full of your own plans has no room for his.
So here is the one thing to do this week. Name it. Write down the single thing God has already made clear to you, the one you have been quietly litigating, and then take the first concrete step on it before Sunday. Not the whole thing, just step one. Make the call, send the money, have the conversation, say the apology, sign up to serve. And if the step is bigger than you, ask for help, from him and from a real person, because grace flows toward humility and pride simply will not ask.
You do not have to figure out the end from the beginning. You only have to say what he is waiting to hear. Lord, I am willing.