Not My Will, but Yours

Easter turns me into a weepy mess. I know that I am supposed to celebrate Good Friday and remember that that day in history was pivotal to my redemption, to my forgiveness, to my acceptance into the Kingdom. But really, I just see a day where a perfect man was betrayed, ridiculed, beaten, and ultimately murdered. It's a sad story, even if you know that Sunday's coming. It's a tough day for me to celebrate.

Last night, like many Christians, I gathered with a body of believers to honor and remember the day that Jesus allowed himself to be crucified. The service was beautiful, and moving, and profound. I cried from start to finish. It's hard for me to come face to face with the brutality of that day. It's hard for me to accept my role in that bloodbath. It's hard for me to acknowledge that there was no other way. I mean Jesus, a PERFECT man, the SON of God, BEGGED for a different part in the story. He knew the will of God and he wanted no part of it. He prayed, "Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me" (Luke 22:42 emphasis mine). But even then, even in the midst of his fear, Jesus recognizes that it is the Father's will that is important. He continues with, "yet not my will, but yours be done".

Oh, Jesus. You had to set the bar so high, didn't you? I mean it wasn't enough to DIE for my sins, but you had to willingly submit yourself to a different plan, a story with a vastly different ending than you would have chosen. You had to lay down your dreams in exchange for the Father's in order to show all of us what it truly means to offer ourselves as living sacrifices. Being perfect wasn't enough? I mean if it was me, I'd have let the WHOLE WORLD know that this was not my plan. I would have pouted about the injustice of it all. I'd have bartered and bargained with God in that garden as I explained why my plan was better. But not you. You literally laid your will, your dreams, your plan down in order to carry out your Father's will.

Good Friday, unlike any other day of the year, makes me confront the reality of sacrificing my will. It's so easy to sing songs that say "Take my life, and let it be, all for you, and for your glory," or "We raise our white flag, we surrender, all to you, all for you." But in reality, what I mean is I'll submit to being a moral person, to trying my best to live out your commands, to loving others, etc. as long as I get to keep the outline of my plan, as long as my will is your will. Good Friday makes me confront the reality that sometimes our will and God's will are in absolute conflict with one another. Christ wanted to live. The Father knew he must die. Direct opposition.

If I'm honest, despite the detours and a lot of bumps along the way, my plan is still possible (mostly). I'm clinging to that with all my might. My will is still possible. I may be bitter about the detours and the extra heartache, but I'm still believing that my plan is attainable. But what if my will is in direct opposition to God's will? Will I ever have the grace to truly lay down my will and really mean it when I say, "not my will, but yours"? I can't honestly say that I feel that way today. If the Lord intends that I never know motherhood in any capacity, I'll pitch a fit. I'm just being honest. I want to say that I would trade in my little story for whatever role he has for me in His BIG story, but truthfully, I'd rather have my way. I'm comfortable with my plan. The story I've dreamed up is simple. There's room in it for the Lord, for church, for loving others, for serving widows and orphans. My story doesn't relegate God to a corner, it lets Him shine, it allows me to serve Him, it enables me to raise up Godly men and women. There's nothing inherently wrong with my story. Lots of incredible women have my story. And I really like it. I mean, I really, really like it. I don't want to trade it in.

At this point, I don't feel like I've been asked to give up my plan. There have certainly been a lot of things added to the story that I didn't foresee, but I guess I still see that there could be purpose for this season. I'm hoping that infertility means "not right now" or "wait a little longer" and not "lay it down". And I'm going to cling to my dream for as long as I can. Hopefully, laying down my will only means surrendering to His timing and a slightly different path. But what if?

Could you earnestly and honestly lay down your will in perfect honor, humility, and grace in order to carry out the Father's will?