Simple

“The Christian life is simple, but it’s not easy,” said Mandy as we sat on the exceptionally fluffy couch at Zera on Monday afternoon.  We’d both been sharing about our present fears, visions about where we might be headed, answers to prayer, and gospel vitamins we’ve been chewing on.  God’s made it pretty clear that He loves us, that we cannot thwart His plans, that He is good and will do us good, and that He is in control, and yet we have to make the choice each day (and moment by moment) to choose to trust Him and to live in the light and for His kingdom come –that, or to let fear paralyze us, to keep certain parts of our lives and hearts to ourselves (sitting on our idols as if He doesn’t know they’re there!), choosing our own kingdom come and our own will be done.  Such a simple choice, but not easy.  

As we learned about Deuteronomy the other night, two short imperatives stuck out to me and have been swimming around in my mind, one straight from God’s lips and one from Ann’s:  “Choose life” (Dt. 30:19) and “Dance with the One who brought you.”  

What does “choosing life” look like?  I think it looks the same as dancing with the One who turned my mourning into a dance in the first place.  As defined by God by way of the progressive verbs in Deuteronomy 30:20, choosing life happens “by loving the LORD [my] God, by obeying His voice, and by holding fast to Him; for this is [my] life and the length of [my] days…” (NASB)  And what does that look like?  The ESV Study Bible’s footnote says, “To choose life is to choose God himself, to trust in God’s grace and circumcision of the heart” (375). To want Him, to believe He has chosen us as children of His grace and that He has made us new creations in Christ, to cling to Him and throw ourselves upon Him, the only Solid Rock.  Dependence. Surrender. Trust.  Intimacy. Obedience. Love.   

Before Mandy and I left Zera, she shared with me a picture of sanctification that one of her professors recently shared: Two trucks.  One is shiny and perfect and new, and one is completely broken down, rusted and dented—in short, a total wreck.  When God saves us, He takes us as His own and begins us on the road of sanctification.  His Holy Spirit (the shiny, new truck) attaches Himself permanently to the beloved sinner (the broken-down truck) and pulls him or her along. Each of us is still in the driver’s seat of the broken-down truck, and though we have no say in the matter of our ultimate destination (God will complete the work He started in us), we can still, instead of submitting to the course He’s set out for us, try to steer the wheel every which way, slowing down the process of sanctification.  We cannot see everything that He does, so of course we often think our way is better.  How much more joyous a ride, though, just to let Him drive.  To choose life and to dance with Him who brought me—this is my heart’s desire!  Simple, but never easy.