Crisis

We have all faced crisis. You can minimize it if you'd like, but it causes stress and anxiety on some level with just about anyone. There are some people who face a huge crisis and seem to be able to shrug off the stress. Visiting cancer patients in the hospital last fall, there was a woman who was there almost the entire time I rounded (4 months or so), but she always seemed to be pretty much at ease with things.

At the same time, there are those who blow their stacks at the smallest things. And, no, they aren't all 13 year-old drama magnets (the other one is 15... just kidding). They seem to learn how to handle life's issues by watching the latest Fox sitcom.

In thinking about the crises I've faced in my life, I cannot really pin down how I react. There have been times I have "turtled"... pulled the covers over my head and hoped it would just go away. There have been times when I've dug in and stood my ground. There have been a few notable times when I got hot and lost my temper. I'm not sure which (the first or the last reaction) I'm less proud of, actually. Escapism and avoidance of a problem (one of my weaknesses) is often doing to yourself what you would otherwise do to someone else.

None of us faced a bigger crisis than Jesus in the Garden of Gethsemane. Sorry, I don't care how big your issue is, the fate of the universe does not hinge on it as it did with Jesus.

In Luke 22:42, Jesus prayed "... not my will, but yours be done." So, facing the biggest crisis ever, what was the Son of God doing here? Turtling avoidance? I don't think so. If he was a turtle, why come to earth in the first place?

Was he being weak in confessing his desire not to do this? I've heard that before and frankly cannot fathom why the thought even occurs to someone. With the weight of all sin pressing upon him, under direct attack from the essence of evil, it is understandable and (I feel) a sign of strength even to express yourself like this. Considering how terrible he felt, to even be willing to continue is far more than heroic.

I do not see a man bitterly resigned to fate. His prayer while with the disciples before he arrived here (found in John) should make that plain.

Here was a man trusting in his Father's love to pull him through. Here was a man who could not see the outcome of all of this but trusted that Father would come through on THE plan of plans.

I want to pray like that. When I pray, "Your will be done," I don't think my motives are that pure. Sometimes I have prayed such prayers and add that phrase to the end of the statement as a means to excuse my own selfish requests. Extreme example: "Help me to win the lottery, but if not, Your will be done (of course)." I actually think such a phrase so badly used should show us how far off the mark we are and how much we need His mercy. It should expose my motives, especially if you think about what the Father actually wills: salvation... renewal... restoration... transformation...

What does it actually mean when we tell someone, "See you this weekend, Lord willing!" As if He doesn't will that we see each other? I suppose that if my seeing you is going to detract from His desire for our lives (salvation, renewal, restoration, transformation, etc.), then I can accept that. But, again, I find myself uncomfortable with the phrase as something just added on to the end of a conversation.

Look... what do I know, really? I don't know my own heart well enough, much less another's when we pray, "Your will be done." But I do know a little about Jesus. I know He loves me. I know He died for me, going through with the drinking of the cup that I deserved to gulp from. I know He wants me with Him forever. I know He wants me to be a changed man. I know He's doing more than His part for this to happen.

I know that much about His will. So I can say with confidence now (after taking you through the thought process to get here)... "Your will be done. Not mine."