December 31, 2017
If the gospel costs us something, we would do well to consider the price tag.
I considered it on a recent silent retreat. The contemplation began with a simple question: What do you want? It caused me to take a total spiritual and marital audit.
I had never been on a silent retreat, and I was looking forward to going. I needed a fresh encounter with God—specifically concerning marriage.
It’s been … a very hard year.
There has been no infidelity (outside of lusting). Not even any porn use.
Matt and I are better friends than ever.
But there is pain. I am a human who doesn’t like pain. I want to avoid it if at all possible.
What do I want? Do I want to continue in this pursuit of Jesus and Matt—even though it includes pain? I knew the question was selfish, but I needed to answer it. I couldn’t let it simply dance on my brain. It would only grow in my avoidance of it.
I needed to look this question full in the face to see if what I believed—this marriage, this God-following—was still worth it.
“Unless we can look the darkest, blackest fact full in the face without damaging God’s character, we do not yet know Him,” Oswald Chambers said (Utmost for his Highest, July 29, pg, 806).
I hadn’t done a total audit of my spiritual life in nearly a decade, and I was due.
In the afternoon of the first day on the retreat, I sat in a sunbathed chair for three hours, going back and forth with the lingering question, “What do you want?” The bartering, haggling, and arguing with God kicked up an internal storm while I sat in the sunshine.
I told God what I wanted in that moment. What I wanted looked like what the world wants for me: Be who you are. Be free.
I developed a pro-con list of pursuing such wants.
But then, oh, then …
It was just me and God. I envisioned him standing in front of me, face serious. While I looked at his face (the face my limited brain could imagine), His Spirit reminded me of what I had read in the Word just that morning.
The book of Jude. I never read Jude. But I did that day, and four verses stood out to me like they were radioactive:
“[I]n the last times there would be scoffers whose purpose in life is to satisfy their ungodly desires. These people are the ones who are creating divisions among you. They follow their natural instincts because they do not have God’s Spirit in them.
“But you, dear friends, must build each other up in your most holy faith, pray in the power of the Holy Spirit, and await the mercy of our Lord Jesus Christ, who will bring you eternal life. In this way, you will keep yourselves safe in God’s love” (Jude 1:18-21).
The part about God’s Spirit caught on my brain. Those who “follow their natural instincts … do not have God’s Spirit in them.”
If I follow what I want … even if it is natural to me … will I lose connection to the Spirit of God?
The Father seemed to echo the question as I stood before him.
Laurie, do you want to silence the Holy Spirit’s presence in you?
I considered it. I thought about what it might feel like. What does the Holy Spirit’s presence in my life offer? Comfort, hope, direction … He completes me, inspires me, convicts me. He is God.
Do I want God in my life? That’s the real question: Do I want God or not?
As I considered, I experienced for a half-of-a-second how the absence of his presence might feel. The only word I have been able to choose to articulate it accurately is terrifying. It was as close to hell as I ever hope to ever be.
“No, God. I don’t want to silence the Holy Spirit in me.”
Then follow me. Trust me. Come and die.
This is the cost, and it is expensive. Death to self and life in Christ is not a nice Christian catchphrase. It is our job description.
“This isn’t upper-level, extra credit, AP Christianity,” Francis Chan said. “It’s what we sign up for—to die to ourselves and become like Christ” (You and Me Forever, 70).
I may not want to do it … but I do. The Spirit in me wants to. The Spirit in me is able to do it. “For God is working in you, giving you the desire and the power to do what pleases him” (Phil. 2:13).
Dying to ourselves–to unholy wants–is both excruciating and the only way to experience a truly joyful life.
And I don’t have to do it alone. None of us do. But we have to willingly, courageously, and vulnerably share our weaknesses with the Body of Christ.
I returned home raw from the experience. I felt like I did not only go through an audit, but open-heart surgery.
I was scared to relay my God-encounter with Matt. Would he feel rejected? Shut me out?
He reacted like he always does with patience, kindness, understanding, and humility.
“I’m not shocked,” he said. “And I’m surprisingly comforted by what you heard from God. I know that in the battle between me and a woman, a woman would win. But in the battle between women and God, God would win.”
He’s right. Because I want God, I choose His wants over mine.
Because I want God, I choose to accept the payment for my life–His death.
Because I want God, I choose to receive the blessings that come with my own death: character, hope, joy, peace, the Holy Spirit, my incredible husband, my sweet kids, and dear friends.
If the gospel costs us something we would do well to consider the price tag.
And when we do, we will see the price we pay is a bargain.
Do The Next Thing:
- Read: If you follow us for any length of time you know I think Tim Keller, Ann Voskamp, and Francis Chan all drink tea (or water-wine?) with Jesus every day. After drinking that tea, my boy Francis and his wife Lisa wrote an incredible marriage book called You and Me Forever. If you are married, want to be, or just know married people, please read it. It’s all focused on God, and that’s why it’s incredible. It gives a God-picture of marriage. Here is one of my favorite excerpts: “In an effort to gain ‘converts,’ Christians often refrain from telling the full story. We want people to follow, so like cheap salesmen, we share the benefits without explaining the cost. We tell them about Jesus’ promises of life and forgiveness, but we don’t mention His calls for repentance and obedience. We avoid His promise that we will experience persecution. When we do this, we cheapen the gospel. The beauty of the gospel is that Christ is of such supreme worth that we would gladly sacrifice all to have Him. He is so beautiful that we would be fools to resist becoming like Him” (70-71).
- Consider: While wrestling through posting this blog, I read John 17 again. The part about oneness stuck with me: “I pray that they will all be one, just as you and I are one—as you are in me, Father, and I am in you. And may they be in us so that the world will believe you sent me” (17:21). If we are married, I do not think we can have true community in the Church (oneness) if we are not wholly pursuing oneness in our marriage relationship.
- Share: I mentioned how none of us have to be alone in this journey. Since this experience, I have shared it with close friends and family. As painful as it is, it has helped me to see how broken all of us are, and know I am not alone. Do you believe that? Do you feel one with the crew of the church with your own brokenness? Are you experiencing this oneness in your marriages, small groups, with your neighbors, church? If not, why not? I’m not asking rhetorically, I am sincerely asking this question: How can we do a better job of leaning into the John 17 oneness as we follow Christ—no matter our story or struggle? What can we do?
I relate so deeply to this post, and to your story. I’m in my twenties and I’ve struggled with same-sex attraction since I was young, I think a lot having to do with being exposed to gay pornography at an early age. I’m also in ministry and have been for nearly 10 years now. My closest friends and leaders know about the struggle I have, although I do have a desire for women as well. Sometimes it seems that the desire and lust for another man is stronger than my desire for a woman, and in those moments it’s so easy to feel discouraged. But I’ve felt the Lord ask me the same questions before, saying, “What do you want? A life that gratifies your flesh, insecurities, and lust? Or a life that is wholeheartedly submitted to Me, that is full of power, purpose, and fulfillment?” I know 100% that my answer is God and will always be God. I know He has great plans for me and I will choose that over what my body wants. But wow, it’s a difficult struggle. Hearing your story and reading some of your posts has been incredibly encouraging to me, especially the story about your marriage and how you are able to talk so openly about what you feel. I know that whoever the woman is that God has for me will have a God-given grace for my struggle as I’ll have a grace for whatever struggles she has as well. I have a new hope for the plan God has for me with my future wife. Thank you so much for your ministry, Laurie!