The Square Peg

To recap the truths that would revolutionize our decision making processes:

1) God knows what’s best for you better than you know what’s best for you
2) Everybody you lay eyes on is a person for whom Christ died
3) God is up to something in the world and you are invited to play a part

Ready for the fourth?

• The single greatest obstacle to living a breakaway life is that when we wake up, we don’t set out on a truth quest.

We only chase what makes us happy. When we become people who make decisions that will make us ‘happy’, we have to make up excuses to justify that decision.

If I bought a new car and told you I bought it because it’s safer than the Trailblazer, that’s crap. That’s not why I’d buy a new car. I’d be buying a new car because my ‘wanter’ kicked in and I ‘obeyed my thirst’ (no, Sprite isn’t paying me for that plug). And I’d get something with heated leather seats, an in-dash multiple CD player, GPS, MP3 capability, and a sun roof. And that’s just for starters. But buying a new car would only make me happy until I got the new payment and realized how much further in debt I am; then I wouldn’t be happy anymore. So which is it? Did buying the new car make me happy or not?

The thing is, when we make excuses to justify our actions, the people we tell don’t believe it. And we don’t believe it when they tell us their excuses, either. But we convince ourselves it’s true, and our self-deceit is our biggest hindrance to living a breakaway life.

Jeremiah 17:9 says the heart is deceitful above all things and beyond cure. Who can understand it? We already heard it once earlier in the series, and here it is again: you can’t trust your heart. If we pursue happiness rather than truth, God’s will will always seem extreme. When we chase truth, God’s will doesn’t seem so severe. In fact, when we seek truth, we’ll realize God’s will brings peace and contentment rather than the unrest that often follows carrying out our own will.

Joe wasn’t trying to change anybody’s behavior; his point was that we aren’t always honest with ourselves. He challenged us with these questions:

• Why am I doing this, really?
• If someone in my circumstances came to me for advice, what course of action would I recommend?

Since it starts here, I think I’ll go look in the mirror.

In 1 Chronicles 29, David’s son Solomon had been chosen to build the temple and it was a huge undertaking. David gave his resources to the buiding of the temple: gold, iron, silver, wood, bronze, onyx, turquoise, stone and marble. After he gave a huge amount (the Bible lists the specifics but I’m not going to), he gave his personal treasures to be used as well. Then he asked the assembly if any of them would be willing to give as well. Everyone gave willingly.

David never saw the temple built, but he gave a lot of resources to make it happen. Ditto for the folks under him. And the Bible says they did it willingly. Sidebar: I had to sit and let the principle of giving even though you might not see the result sink in. The point is that God owns it all. We can call stuff ours, but the truth is we’re just the managers of that stuff.

This is where it gets a little weird. Money is one of those things that makes people a little crazy or uncomfortable or trippy when it comes up. But money is just a tool; nothing more, nothing less. Most folks don’t think they have enough. Others seem to have an endless supply. But everybody has strong beliefs about how it should be managed. I’ve heard some say that you have to have money in order to have something to worry about managing. But that’s not true. There’s a Biblical principle that says if you manage what you have well, you’ll be given more to manage. And that’s pretty much true in all of life; employees who manage their tasks well are often given more tasks. Why do we complain about being given more responsibility at work to manage, but never about being given more money to manage? What’s up with that? I’ve seen people with plenty of money somehow manage to have nothing to show for all they’ve made, and others who have made very little, yet stretched it quite far. Most people fall somewhere in the middle.

What really stood out to me was David’s giving out of his kingly resources and then giving out of his personal accumulation. OK, I’ll bare my soul a little here: it seems that when I feel comfortable with what’s in my bank account, I tend to be more generous, but when I feel I have very little, I tend to become more stingy. But if I’m just a conduit, what am I worried about? God can give me some of His stuff to manage, and then move it right on along into someone else’s hands to manage for a while or maybe even for forever. Shouldn’t I care more about the way I manage His stuff, rather than how much of it I manage?