When Wanting What God Wants Is Hard.

I felt it last night, the fear of losing something to obedience. I felt the dread that maybe, just maybe, saying yes to God meant saying no to something that I really would have liked to hold on to. I felt the tension between wanting what God wants, but also wanting what I want too. And I got to thinking about how sometimes we don’t tell people that this is what obedience looks like, late nights apologizing to God for all the ways we’re still trying to take control, for all the things that we’re failing to surrender. We fail to mention that sometimes when God calls us places, He asks that we leave behind people and things that we love to have more space for Him. That sometimes obedience hurts, and there will be days we still say yes but feel the human regret of our answer.I just want talk to those disciples who left everything behind to follow Jesus. I want to ask them if they looked back, if they had someone they loved that they lost in the process, if they had other things they had been wanting to do before God came and sent them off into a different story. I want to sit across from them at a table and say, “I know He is better. I know that. But man, saying and living that are two different things. Believing that during the goodbyes and the letting go is truly a test of faith, one I fear I’m failing.”Maybe they would look at me with eyes of understanding, their human hearts recognizing the same struggle within themselves. Maybe they’d tell me that for them it was different because Jesus had flesh and bones and eyes to stare into when they needed a reminder that where He led was far, far better than anyplace they could take themselves. But I think they’d tell me it boils down to a little five letter word I’ll spend my whole life trying to grasp—trust.I prayed hard for that last night, for the ability to trust Him no matter what stays and what goes. I told Him I knew from the beginning what I might have to forfeit for His glory and I was still willing, but like a child I cried and admitted that if it were true I would need Him to be all He promises to be—my comfort, my peace, my strength, my rock. I admitted there would be days when I’d be angry, days I wouldn’t understand. I presented my most honest self to Him on my knees as I asked that He would be patient with me as I went.I think another thing we don’t mention enough is that there is space for those kinds of prayers in obedience. And that we serve a God who understands our hesitation, our fear, our desire to stay where we love with who love. He does not turn His face from us, but instead leans in close and whispers, “Daughter, I see your hurt. I see your desires. I see what you wish you could keep. And I promise that where I am leading you is the immeasurably more than you could ever think, ask, or imagine. I promise it will be a place where you become most like Me, most for Me, most with Me. I promise you won’t even remember all the things you thought you wanted to keep, all the things you couldn’t see you didn’t need. But in the meantime, know I am here. Know your heart can ache and tears can fall without Me turning away from you. I didn’t ask you to walk in obedience only to leave you. So speak your honest prayers to me as you go. I will help you unclench your fist every morning, I will teach you the ways of trust every hour. And there will come a day when you understand and thank Me for all that you could not see. There will come a day you will declare with joy it was worth everything.”words by Jacqueline Winstead and photo by Shelby Bauer