I called an old friend yesterday. I needed to tell him something, and then I wanted to catch up. We talked for over an hour, and near the end he asked me about my book coming out in just under two weeks.
“How you feeling about it?”
I had a decision to make. I could give him the canned answer, or I could give him the real answer. Do I really want to invite him into this tension?
But since I’m called to radical vulnerability, and since that’s a key component of the book I’m releasing, I gave him the full monty.
“On one hand I’m really hopeful. I’m excited. I’ve been praying that God uses it and me in a big way,” I started. Then I continued: “But I’m also trying to set the right exceptions. After I released my last book I realized I had unrealistic, and thus unmet, expectations. And not naming those or not praying through them and what happens if they don’t happen started my dark period in 2021 that actually was the first step toward my severe slide into alcoholism. So I’m trying to balance both the hope and the realism; the fear.”
There, that’s the long answer. The real answer. On one hand, I’m hopeful. I want the book to do certain “things.” I want the most people to read it, because I believe the story inside of it that points to Jesus is powerful. And there’s so much freedom in the four steps I talk about.
But I’m also trying to be realistic.
Is it REALLY possible that I make the New York Times bestseller list? Not really. Is it REALLY possible that so many people will read it that I’m able to spend the next year traveling around the country telling my story and pointing to Jesus? Probably not. And on my worst days, I fear how I will respond mentally and emotionally if those things don’t happen and if the new year comes and the opportunities I’m hoping this book will bring don’t come to fruition.
And yet, I want those things. I’m praying for those things. So I’m caught. I’m stuck. I’m oscillating between hope and fear. Not just daily, but sometimes minute by minute.
You ever been there? Maybe you are there? You are hopeful, but scared. Expectant, but fearful. You know God can do something—whatever your “something” is—and yet you fear what happens if he doesn’t.
Enter The Imitation of Christ.
I’m slowly working my way through this classic book. And I came across something this morning that hit me. Hard. And it’s all about living in that tension between hope and fear. If you’re there, too, then read on.
Written in the 1400s, The Imitation of Christ by Thomas A. Kempis reads to me like a collection of short essays that are really just a collection of proverbs. Really, really good proverbs. These nuggets of wisdom could sustain you for a lifetime.
Especially chapter 25.
Chapter 25 is titled, “Zealous Amendment of Our Whole Life.” I’m not sure that’s the best title, but that doesn’t matter. What matters is the content, and the content is powerful. There are several phrases worthy of an entire post—and I’ll likely get to them over the course of the next couple months—but I want to start with the one that wrecked me the most.
Near the beginning of the short chapter, Kempis tells the story of man. A man that is stuck in the in-between. Scared. Perhaps confused. Here’s what he says:
A certain man, being anxious of mind, continually oscillated between hope and fear. One day, feeling overwhelmed with grief, threw himself down in prayer before a church altar, saying: “Oh! If I only knew that I would persevere!” He presently heard within him a voice from God: “And if you did know it, what would you do? Do now what you would do then, and you will be very secure.” And right away, being comforted and strengthened, he committed himself to the will of God, and his spiritual unease ceased. He no longer cared to ponder what things might befall him in the future, but instead he endeavored to ask what was the good and acceptable will of God for the beginning and perfecting of every good work.
Oh, wow. Wow.
“If you did know [you would get through this], what would you do?”
Dang.
It got me thinking: If I knew God would come through, what would I do? How would I act? What would I say during the process? But then a little bomb dropped into my living room: What if “coming through” looks different than what I think it should look like?
Oh, now that’s the question, right? How would I act then? What would I say then?
I’m wrestling with that. See, in my journal yesterday morning before reading this passage I wrote down a question I felt God asked me:
“Am I still good if the book doesn’t meet your metrics of success?”
Yikes.
Of course, the answer is, “yes.” But that doesn’t mean it’s the easy answer.
The truth is, I think we all have an outcome in mind on the other side of whatever we’re wrestling with—on the other side of our“perseverance,” like Kempis talks about. But what if that outcome doesn’t come to fruition? What if it’s different than what we want?
See, the TED Talk Christianity that is so popular nowadays has really just slapped a “God” label on worldly, New Age “manifestation.” Strangely, God only wants all the good things that we want. The “healthy, wealthy, and wise” or the “blessed and highly favored”stuff—and it usually is physical stuff, or success, or ease, or comfort, or status. Don’t you think that’s strange for a God that said you would have “trouble” in the world? Don’t you think that treating all the desires of your heart as good, right, and true is dangerous when Scripture tells us our hearts are deceitful?
This “grounding” and “manifesting” Christianity that’s more at home on a Buddhist retreat isn’t Christianity at all. We can’t “manifest” anything. But what we can do is ask and then trust. And we can believe that all things work together for our good and God’s glory (Romans 8:28).
But here’s the thing: we don’t get to decide what’s good. He does.
Certainly it’s important to renew our minds. To perform “self-brain surgery” as my good friend
talks about. Do that. For sure. But that’s not what I’m talking about here. Here I’m talking about throwing ourselves completely on God and trusting him. Trusting that he’s got you. Even if that means more pain and suffering. More unknown.Even if that means no speaking opportunities, no job, and low book sales? Yes, even then.
But here’s the good news: you will persevere through it. God has not left you alone. He has not left you to fend for yourself. He has not abandoned you.
So here’s the question if you’re oscillating between hope and fear like Kempis’ example and like me: “If you knew that God would come through—even, and especially, if that doesn’t look like how you want it to look—what would you do?”
Me? I’m going trust. Hope and pray for what I’d like? Absolutely. But no matter what happens, God is still good. So I’m going to thank him while going about preparing for the best. Knowing full well, I don’t get to decide what that is.
What about you?
Thanks, Jonathon! This is a really helpful question to ask and one I’m going to need a while to ponder! So encouraged to hear how God is using it to grow you!
Life changing: to do what you would do if you knew.