Never Fail

By Ife J. Ibitayo

I spent some time today looking through my high school yearbook with my little brother. I couldn’t help but grin as I saw pictures of my high school self. Apparently, a decade later, I still look the same. I don’t know whether that’s a compliment to my youth or an insult to my maturity! But as I flipped through the yearbook’s pages, my smile dimmed when I arrived at the photo of the leaders for our Christian club because there was one person missing from it.

I still remember the day when our treasurer—who I’ll call Barry—knocked on my dorm room. It was late at night, and he had a pile of books in his hands. He told me about how he’d been struggling with his faith, and he wanted to read through some of these resources with me as he attempted to splice together the crumbling remnants of his Christianity. I was club president and pastor at the time, but I was also struggling to balance the load of club activities and classes with the minimum free time I thought I needed for myself. So I blew him off, and within the next couple weeks, we no longer had a treasurer.

I Failed

I was reminded of Peter in the Gospels. When Jesus said all of His disciples would desert Him, Peter excluded himself from that group. When Jesus said Peter would deny Him three times, Peter effectively called Jesus a liar. He promised he’d suffer to the death before he denied his Lord and Savior (Matthew 26:31-35). But within a few short hours, all of Jesus’ disciples deserted Him and Peter denied Him just as He had said.

Yet none of this was a surprise to Jesus because God knows our frailties better than we do. He knows when we’ll snap at our spouse or disappoint our children. He even knows when we’ll fail the people who need us the most in their hour of need.

What I find most comforting about Jesus’ prophecy is that right after He tells the disciples they will desert Him, He says, “‘After I have risen, I will go ahead of you into Galilee (Matthew 26:32).’” In other words, Jesus had already baked their failure into His plan. When His followers fell, He rose. When they stumbled, He went on ahead, both to catch them and to prepare the way.

He Never Does

A few years later, I saw Barry again in college. He had reestablished his faith, and he was doing well academically and spiritually. Even though the shame of my failure still burns within me, I’m grateful that I learned a valuable lesson. I will continue to fall short of the perfect standard of love I strive to live up to; however, my God never will. And He can redeem even my greatest failures for my good and for His glory.

“None of the good promises the LORD had made to the house of Israel failed. Everything was fulfilled.”

(Joshua 21:45)

A Goodbye Birthday

By Ife J. Ibitayo

Late last week I received an early birthday present from my parents. Reading their kind note interrupted my whirling dervish of a life. It was like someone tapped me on the shoulder in the middle of my juggling routine. The ball of quitting my job, the ball of securing my new apartment, the ball of shipping my car, the ball of moving out of my apartment, and many others came crashing to the ground as I remembered: “Oh, yeah, my birthday is next Monday, isn’t it?”

Goodbye Engineering

I’ve been struggling to unravel the complex web of emotions tangled up in my heart. Last Friday, I handed in my badge, laptop, and all the other things I’d accumulated over the last three years working at Aurora Flight Sciences. As I sat in the lobby waiting for my Uber to arrive, I felt like a spinning gear that’d been violently disconnected from the rest of the train. I was still revved up in my mind, but I was accomplishing nothing. That day I realized that I am no longer an engineer, and I may never be one again.

Goodbye Friends

I also shared many, many, many meals with loved ones in the area. Each meal was a bittersweet mix of joy and sorrow. As I sat on my air mattress hours before my friends and I went out to celebrate one last time, I wondered how quickly they will move on without me. Will I be able to do the same? Will I carry them in my heart, or will our love and laughs be covered by the sands of time? I carried this emotional baggage with me as I flew home to celebrate the 4th of July with my family.

Conclusion

A rough paraphrase of Matthew 11:28 (based on the Greek) is, “Come to me all you who are worn out and loaded down, and I will give you a much-needed break.” Whenever I find myself wallowing in my thoughts—critical of the past and pensive about the future, I know I need a break. I need to go to the movies, stop counting calories, and hit the snooze button a couple extra times. I need to put down my unfinished pile of work and pick up my unfinished pile of video games. I need to stop running and start resting. That’s why Jesus says I must take “His yoke upon me and learn from Him” (Matthew 11:29). I can’t take up His yoke unless I let go of my own.

So last week I finally gave myself permission to rev down, unwind, and relax. I played the games, watched the shows, and shopped the stores. As is true for all of us, life goes on, new challenges await, and the journey isn’t over. So this birthday, I don’t just whisper a tearful goodbye but also a hopeful, hesitant hello.

“To everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under heaven: a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plan and a time to uproot.”

(Ecclesiastes 3:1-2)

Protests and Celebration

By Ife J. Ibitayo

The title of an NBC article well-captures the polarizing nature of the Supreme Court’s landmark ruling last week: “Protests and celebrations as Supreme Court Overturns Roe v. Wade”. For many, this ruling marks the culmination of decades of faith, prayer, and activism. And the hope that bubbles up from this decision serves as an encouraging signpost for the future. But for others, this marks the beginning of the end. A generation of progress has come to a grinding halt, and other women’s rights may be on the chopping block in the years–or even months–to come.

Abortion is a deeply personal issue for most of us. Many who are pro-life ask: “Who’s going to speak up for the unborn? Who, after having carried a beloved being to term, can stand aside while millions of other precious children are slaughtered wholesale?” Yet on the other side of the fence, many who are pro-choice ask: “Why do I not get to choose what I do with my body and my life? Why must I sacrifice everything for something to which I owe nothing?” Because of how intimate this issue is, I struggle to dialogue with others who disagree with me on this topic.

Celebration

I believe that life is sacred from conception. This isn’t just a Biblical principal I accept, it’s a truth that resonates viscerally in my bones. I’ve served with children at summer camps and YMCA ever since I was a teenager. I donate to America World Adoption Agency every month because I deeply desire for children to be raised by loving parents. I also intend to adopt someday myself.

The more time I spend with children, the more I realize that they can touch my heart at younger and younger ages. I’ve had stimulating conversations with my kindergarten age nieces and nephews. I played games with my little brother when he was still a toddler. I still remember the intimate stories my mother told me of her unique pregnancy experiences carrying my siblings and I to term. And so I rejoice at the overturning of Roe v. Wade.

Protest

Yet I’m also beginning to understand how often the rights of women have been nullified in the name of “the greater good.” It would be easy to site stats and statistics; however, there is one historical fact that rocks me: Women were only granted the right to vote in the 1920s. There are nearly 100,000 Americans alive today who were born during a time when half of all US citizens were disenfranchised. And this disenfranchisement continues today. A plethora of systemic issues prevent women from speaking up and demonizes them when they do. Add on top of that the loss of the right to choose whom they birth with their bodies and when they start their families, and I can see why their newfound situation hurts grievously.

Conclusion

Many reading this article may have skimmed over half of it. Or they may have read it all intently with a “Yes, but” on the tip of their tongues. But the point of this piece is not to ignite another argument. We already have enough of those blasting on social media and the nightly news. I’m trying my best to understand, to let others know I hear them and I’m listening, even if I don’t understand them as well as I wish I could. Because we must build more bridges to one another, or we risk burning the whole house down.

“My dear brothers and sisters, take note of this: Everyone should be quick to listen, slow to speak and slow to become angry.”

(James 1:19)

Go Back the Way You Came

By Ife J. Ibitayo

I’ve been receiving a lot of critical feedback recently, both solicited and unsolicited. Concerning my forthcoming book, critics have said: “I think about half of what you have so far is deadweight.” And “Your characters sound like uneducated savages.” Concerning my startup idea, I’ve heard: “You don’t have the necessary industry experience.” “You don’t have the right leadership experience.” And even, “What is your role again?”

I was surprised at how deeply these verbal shards cut even when they were spewed with the best of intentions. I began to ask myself: Why is discouragement such a powerful tool to keep us from our destiny? And why is encouragement so crucial to achieving it?

My contemplation led me to the story of Elijah in the Bible, the greatest prophet of the Old Testament. This man’s prayers caused nationwide droughts (James 5:17). He called down fire from heaven on soldiers (2 Kings 1) and sacrifices alike 1 Kings 18). Elijah was the Biblical equivalent of Aang the Last Airbender. He was set apart in his generation, imbued with enviable divine power, and achieved glorious exploits.Yet even Elijah grew discouraged.

When Jezebel, the evil queen of Israel, threatened his life, Elijah fled into the wilderness. While there, Elijah said two things that reveal the dangers of discouragement.

Going Out Into the Wilderness

First, he said, “‘I’ve had enough, LORD. Take my life, for I am no better than my fathers’” (1 Kings 19:4). When we’re discouraged, we will be tempted to compare our journey with those who’ve come before us. And prophets did not have a good track record in Israel. Nearly across the board, they were persecuted, betrayed, and murdered (Acts 7:52). So what made Elijah special?

Likewise, if we ever want to achieve anything meaningful in our lives, the stats will never be in our favor. For example, only 1 in 4 authors will find a publisher for their completed manuscript. And of these lucky few, only 1 in 100 will turn a profit. Similarly, 90% of all startups fail. Comparison to others can provide a useful dose of reality, but it can also be the quickest way to kill our ambitions before they leave the ground.

Secondly, Elijah said, “I have been very zealous for the Lord God Almighty. The Israelites have rejected Your covenant, torn down your altars, and put Your prophets to death with the sword. I am the only one left, and now they are trying to kill me too” (1 Kings 19:14). When we’re discouraged, we tend to magnify our problems and minimize our progress. In so doing, we transform challenging circumstances into impossible ones.

Going Back the Way You Came

But God spoke the encouraging words this beaten down man desperately needed to hear. First, God said, “Go back the way you came,”  then He commissioned him to complete his mission (1 Kings 19:15). We will all get derailed in this life. We’ll make a string of fatal errors like Winston Churchill, or we’ll get hit by a string of unlucky breaks like Klay Thompson. But we need someone to remind us why we were taking the journey in the first place. We need someone to tell us, “Go back the way you came” if we want to end the war or win the championship.

Secondly, God told Elijah, “‘I have reserved seven thousand in Israel—all whose knees have not bowed to Baal and whose mouths have not kissed him’” (1 Kings 19:18). When the voices of discouragement tell us that we will fail like everyone else did, we must remind ourselves that there are still those who’ve succeeded. And we could very well become one of them.

A number of stories written by people just like us do breakthrough. They win Pulitzer’s and Nobel Prizes. They change culture and inspire young children to dream of a brighter future. And they even inspire spinoffs, fan fiction, and subreddits.

Conclusion

When discouragement comes, we have only two options. We can stay in the wilderness and lament the loss of the naïve dream we once cherished. Or we can “go back the way we came” and keep on fighting.

“Let us not become weary in doing good, for at the proper time we will reap a harvest if we do not give up.”

(Galatians 6:9)

A Black Son’s Juneteenth

By Ife J. Ibitayo

I’ve been black ever since I was born. This may be obvious to you, but it wasn’t to me. I was born in the suburbs of deeply-black Detroit. Then I moved to racially diverse San Jose. Then I wrapped up my childhood in Mission, Texas, which is 80% Hispanic. I never experienced brazen racism or saw Confederate flag-waving white supremacists. Microaggressions and “can I touch your hair?” were the extent of the indignities I lived through.

So I never understood my Dad’s rules: If you wear a hoodie, the hood must be down. If you’re wearing a fitted, it must face forward. Never pocket anything in the grocery store even if you intend to pay for it. And always keep your receipts.  No Kobe earrings for my older brother. No Iverson cornrows for me. And in the midst of these perplexing rules, I remained relatively cocooned from the complex web of racial interactions that tangled around me.

Divided

But then Michael Brown—a teenager less than a year older than me—was shot in Ferguson, Missouri. And less than two years later, Donald Trump was elected president of the United States. With these jarring cognitive blows, I finally began to realize the United States of America was not as united as I once believed. And I began to understand my dad’s deep-seated anguish and frustration with our country.

Black people in the United States have always lived divided lives, torn between the high ideals America stands for and the disappointing reality our nation has fallen into. America decried racism in Nazi Germany while embracing it on our own soil. America lauded Gandhi overseas but assassinated King back home. America opposed apartheid as early as the 1940s yet supported Jim Crow until the 1960s.

United

I still remember sitting with my dad a few years back, overcome by my newfound jadedness. I shared my grievances with him and expected him to say, “Son, welcome to the table.” But rather, he told me he was still proud to be an American. The United States is still the nation my father dreamed of coming to from his youth. The United States is still the nation where my father proved that blood, sweat, tears and an unremitting hunger for success can open nearly every door and shatter countless glass ceilings. And this hope, this pride is what he’s passed onto me.

So as a Juneteenth Father’s Day approaches, I celebrate all the black fathers who refused to give into cynicism and despair. I celebrate all the black fathers who stuck around, gritted their teeth, and refused to give up or give in. I celebrate all of the black fathers who poured themselves out for their nations, their companies, and their families even when no one gave them an ounce of appreciation. And most of all, I celebrate my own father. I love you, Dad.

Leaving Nazareth

By Ife J. Ibitayo

Jesus Christ was a country boy. He was raised in a Podunk town in the backwaters of Judea. The geographic blip was so inconsequential even one of Jesus’ own disciples said, “Nazareth! Can anything good come from there” (John 1:46)?

Yet Nazareth was also Jesus’ home. It was where His parents, siblings, and childhood friends lived (Mark 6:3).  It was where his mother taught him how to walk and his father how to woodwork. Sadly, Nazareth was also where Jesus suffered his first rejection. Here Jesus uttered the words, “A prophet is not without honor except in His own town, among His relatives and in His own home (Mark 6:4).” In Nazareth’s synagogue he declared His mission to “bind up the brokenhearted and set the captives free” (Luke 4:1). Yet it was the only place in all of scripture “He was not able to heal many sick because of their lack of faith” (Mark 6:5). So with a heavy heart, Jesus had to leave Nazareth.

The Challenge of Leaving Nazareth

As I sit on an aircraft right now, flying back to Washington D.C. for the last time, I think of the “Nazareth” I’ll soon be leaving as well. My experience was nothing like Jesus’. Here I forged friendships I hope to carry with me till I die. I recovered from old wounds I never thought would mend. And my vision for my future crystallized so clearly I can almost taste it. But almost is just not good enough.

Within three months of when I landed in this great city, God told me I would be leaving. With my eyes set on Los Angeles, I’ve often found myself wondering why leaving Nazareth is so hard for me.

The Pain of Leaving Nazareth

As I mentioned earlier, Nazareth is home. And home is familiar. Whenever we step into God’s calling for our lives, it will be uncomfortable. The shy girl will have to stand up and speak out for the needs of the silent. The clean freak will have to get their hands dirty to serve the homeless and destitute. The introvert will have to reach out and bring the lonely into their family. Comfort is not something any of us part with willingly.  

Secondly, Nazareth is old. We have old friendships we can tap into and old haunts we can visit. We have established roots that help us weather the fiercest storms of life. But when we enter into the new, everything changes. We have to find a new job, a new home, and a new family. No wonder Jesus said, “everyone who has left houses or brothers or sisters or father or mother or wife or children or fields for my sake will receive a hundred times as much and will inherit eternal life” (Matthew 19:29). He was speaking from personal experience. When Jesus left His throne in heaven, His family of the Father and the Spirit, and His home of heaven, His heart must have broken. And it must have shattered again when He left His earthly home too.

The Reward of Leaving Nazareth

But an essential shift took place when Jesus left Nazareth. Matthew 6 says “Leaving Nazareth, He went and lived in Capernaum which was by the lake in the area of Zebulun and Naphtali— to fulfill what was said through the prophet Isaiah: Land of Zebulun and land of Naphtali, the Way of the Sea beyond the Jordan, Galilee of the Gentiles—the people living in darkness have seen a great light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death a light has dawned (Luke 6:13-16). In order to be where God wanted Him to be, Jesus had to leave Nazareth.

And so it is with us. That well-paying job is our Nazareth. That steady girlfriend is our Nazareth. Or even that up-and-coming city with booming nightlife is our Nazareth. But if Jesus clung onto His Nazareth, He never would have laid hold of heaven. We too have a heaven to reach, and a cross lays between us and the haven we seek. But every step of this grand adventure will be worth leaving Nazareth.

“‘Truly I tell you,'” Jesus replied, ‘no one who has left home or brothers or sisters or mother or father or children or fields for me and the gospel will fail to receive a hundred times as much in this present age: homes, brothers, sisters, mothers, children and fields—along with persecutions—and in the age to come eternal life.'”

(Mark 10:30)

Falling Apart or Holding Together (The Terrifying Trio Pt. 3)

By Ife J. Ibitayo

For Part 1, “Doubt”, click here. For Part 2, “All Eyes On You”, click here.

These past several weeks have been crazy hectic. I’ve been meeting current friends to say goodbye, calling new acquaintances to say hello, and finalizing my moving plans. Just as my doctor mentioned that I need to find ways to relieve stress, I’ve been stockpiling it in heaps! I’ve found that coordinating a move across the country to a home I haven’t even found yet has been exceptionally challenging. And the metastasizing number of unknowns is triggering subliminal warning bells throughout my system.

Falling Apart

In His Sermon on the Mount, Jesus poses a key question, “Can any of you by worrying add a single hour to your life” (Matthew 6:27)?” We all know the answer to this rhetorical question, so why do we still worry?

My worry is a reflexive, visceral response. If I can’t actively manage a situation, the least I can do is focus my mental energies on it. I treat the problem like a Rubik’s cube my head. If I tweak this here and rotate that over there, maybe a solution will finally crystallize. But the Greek word merimnao means to be “divided into parts, to be distracted.” But we are terrible multitaskers. When we exert all of our mental energy on our worries, we can’t focus on what God wants us to.

Jesus goes on in Matthew chapter 6 to say we are to “seek first God’s kingdom and His righteousness (Matthew 6:33a).” And speaking about this kingdom, Paul says that the kingdom of God is about “righteousness, peace, and joy in the Holy Spirit” (Romans 4:17). So we should be focused on loving others by living righteously and loving ourselves by finding peace and joy in God.

Holding Together

That probably sounds like a pat answer only sufficient for a church retreat. But when the rubber of life hits the potholed road of student loans, angry bosses, and rebellious children, you may wonder how practical that really is. If you don’t spend all your time not worrying about these distressing issues, who will?

Matthew 6:33 in its entirety says, “Seek first His kingdom and His righteousness, and all these things will be added to you.”  God feeds the birds of the air and clothes the lilies of the field. God cares for everything on this planet and most of all for us. Just as children trust their parents and don’t shoulder the same worries they do, neither should we. Our heavenly Father was built to carry the weight of the world on His shoulders because He made it in the first place!

Rather, we’re called to trust Him, even if we don’t know where we’re going to sleep next month. Because God holds the universe together by the strength of His mighty power (Colossians 1:17), we can certainly trust Him to hold our lives together too.

“Cast all your anxiety on him because he cares for you.”

(1 Peter 5:7)

All Eyes on You (The Terrifying Trio Pt.  2)

By Ife J. Ibitayo

For Part 1, “Doubt”, click here.

Joshua was Moses’s successor. This was the same Moses parted the Red Sea (Exodus 14:21), spoke with God face to face (Exodus 33:11), built God’s first earthly dwelling place (Exodus 40), and led the Israelite community for forty years. And it was this same Moses who was not able to lead the Israelites into the Promised Land (Numbers 20:12). Now Joshua was being called to complete the challenge his predecessor never could. With Moses dead, a million eyes now locked onto the son of Nun. And he must have been petrified!

The Fear That Freezes Us

The Brown-Driver-Briggs lexicon defines fear as “dread, making one unfit for action.” We all know that feeling. Our heart races, our hands shake, and our knees tremble uncontrollably. In that grip of that powerful emotion, we find ourselves frozen, unable to save ourselves or anyone else. A fearful person will never make a good salesperson, spokesman, or soldier, let alone a good leader.

The Courage That Releases Us

That is why God commissioned Joshua with these famous words, “‘Have I not commanded you?  Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go’” (Joshua 1:9).

With this powerful message, God released Joshua from the clutches of fear. Because He knows a truth that we need to internalize as well: our emotions are tied to what we fix our eyes on. If we fix them on the wrong target–waves too high for us to crest, burdens too heavy for us to bear, or forces too strong for us to fight–we’ll tremble in the shadow of that looming giant.. But when we fix our eyes on God, we can remember that He shushes the waves (Mark 4:39) ,shoulders our burdens (Matthew 11:28); and topples giants (1 Samuel 17)!

It was in the strength of this word that Joshua prophesied to the Israelites, “‘In three days you will cross the Jordan River and take possession of the land the Lord your God is giving you’” (Joshua 1:11). And just as Joshua had promised, three days later, they entered the Promised Land (Joshua 3)!

Conclusion

We cannot live in fear and walk in God’s plan for our lives. We can only hold on to one or the other. We must let go of our fear of the future, of failure, and any other thing in this world that is not God if we want to conquer the Promised Land He has in store for us. Because entering the Promised Land is not the end of the journey; it’s only the beginning.

“‘Don’t be afraid, for I am with you. Don’t be discouraged, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you. I will hold you up with my victorious right hand.’”
(Isaiah 41:10)

Doubt (The Terrifying Trio Pt. 1)

By Ife J. Ibitayo

Faith is one of the most powerful forces in the universe. It can uproot mountains (Matthew 21:21) and tear down strongholds (Joshua 6:1-27). That is why doubt is one of Satan’s most potent weapons to attack the kingdom of God.

 Speaking of the crippling impact of doubt, the apostle James said, “When you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind. That person should not expect to receive anything from the Lord. Such a person is double-minded and unstable in all they do” (James 1:6-8). These verses provide deep insight into the destructive power of doubt.

The Context

First, the Greek word translated “doubt” in this passage is diakrino. According to HELPS Word-studies, “diakrinos means literally to judge ‘back-and-forth’. It can refer either positively to close reasoning or negatively to over judging. Only the context indicates which sense is meant.”

Last week, I fielded over a dozen calls from various moving company representatives. Each of them tried to convince me that their organization was the right company for the job. I cross-examined, analyzed, and dissected every word they told me because I was going to entrust my most valuable possessions to them, yet I did not know or trust them. In that context, my paranoia was a healthy response to uncertainty and ensured that I chose the best company for the job.

On the other hand, I flew down to Florida last month. My mom told me that my dad was going to pick me up at the airport. I didn’t spend half an hour confirming that my dad was a better option than an Uber because I trust my father. And I can rely on him to show up when I need him the most.

Even though I confidently place trust in my earthly father, I struggle to do the same with my heavenly one. I find myself constantly questioning Him at every step along the journey. I’m like Peter who Jesus called out onto the water. I’ve seen God do the miraculous, yet I struggle to silence the whistling doubts that storm through my head, What if I can’t make this deadline? What if my bills are too high this month? What if I scared her away? And I sink into the tumultuous waves of analysis paralysis.

Conclusion

The answer to this double-mindedness is not to try harder. You can’t will a broken heart to trust God any more than you can will a broken clock to tell time. As an ocean of doubt floods my lungs, one verse gives me hope: “If we are faithless, He remains faithful, for He cannot disown Himself” (2 Timothy 2:13).

In spite of how powerful doubt is, there is yet a power greater still: our faithful Father. Just as Jesus plucked Peter out of the water and set him on solid ground, our Father will rescue us from our doubts. We just have to remember Peter’s words, “Lord, save me” (Matthew 14:30)!

“Now faith is the assurance of things hoped for, the conviction of things not seen.”
(Hebrews 11:1)

Standing at the Crossroads of Logic and Faith

By Ife J. Ibitayo

When I say Ananias, your eyes might light up as you remember the dishonest landowner from the book of Acts and his wife Sapphira (Acts 5:1-11). But there is another, lesser known Ananias.

On the road to Damascus, a brilliant white light blinded the religious terrorist known as Saul of Tarsus. Forced to his knees and rocked to his core, Saul asked, “Who are you, Lord?”

Out of that light, a voice replied, “I am Jesus, whom you are persecuting. Now get up and go into the city, and you will be told what you must do” (Acts 9:5-6). The blinded terrorist was led by his friends into the city, where he remained for three days without food or water (Acts 9:9).

In that same city was a believer known as Ananias. In a vision, God commissioned him to go to Saul and heal him. But Ananias replied, “Lord, I have heard many reports about this man and all the harm he has done to your holy people in Jerusalem. And he has come here with authority from the chief priests to arrest all who call on your name” (Acts 9:13).

But the Lord said, “Go! This man is My chosen instrument to proclaim My name to the Gentiles and their kings and to the people of Israel” (Acts 9:14).

Ananias now stood at a crossroads: Would he believe the voice of sound wisdom, reliable logic, and eyewitness accounts, or would he believe the voice of God?

The Logical Route

The strange thing about our expectation of God’s revelation is that we think He will tell us what we want to hear: “If you keep putting in the extra hours at work, you’ll definitely get promoted.” “If you keep swiping left on Tinder, you’ll certainly find your soulmate.” But, by definition, revelation is the impartation of a “surprising and previously unknown fact” that often runs contrary to the convictions we previously held.

Ananias’s trusted friends had told him how much damage Saul had wrought on the church. Logic told him that befriending terrorists is not the best way to live a long, pleasant life. But God had told him that this man was His “chosen instrument”, literally his “divinely selected vessel”, to represent Him before the entire world.

 So the question remained, would Ananias trust himself, or would he trust God?

The Faith-Filled Route

This same question lies at the heart of faith today. When God says the “last shall be first and the first last” (Matthew 20:16), the “meek shall inherit the earth” (Psalm 37:11), and “the greatest among you shall be your slave” (Matthew 20:27) we should recognize that these are illogical statements.

When God tells us that the best way to get ahead at work is to spend more time with our family or that the best way to find our spouse is waiting on His timing, our common sense screams foul. But scripture after scripture emphasizes that this is the very nature of divine revelation. 1 Corinthians 1:25 says, “the foolishness of God is wiser than human wisdom.” From our limited vantage point, many of His plans look reckless at best and foolhardy at worst. Yet like a chess grandmaster, His methods are more brilliant than we could ever imagine.

The Path Forward

Ananias’ response to this terrifying commission was obedience. “[He] went to the house and entered it. Placing his hands on Saul, he said, ‘Brother Saul, the Lord—Jesus, who appeared to you on the road as you were coming here—has sent me so that you may see again and be filled with the Holy Spirit.’ Immediately, something like scales fell from Saul’s eyes, and he could see again. He got up and was baptized” (Acts 9:17-18).

Everyone knows Apostle Paul, but the catalyst for his journey, the one who literally opened his eyes, was someone just like us. He risked his life and freedom for a God-given vision, and we’re still reaping the fruit of his courage today.

“‘For My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways My ways,’ declares the Lord. ‘As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are My ways higher than your ways and My thoughts than your thoughts.’”

(Isaiah 55:8-9)