Old belief patterns concerning God are triggered through radical actions of faith. When the internal realm is our guide, we must dismiss the external circumstances that suggest we not do that which our gut says we must. We are both delighted and apprehensive – our heart is at rest while the flesh trembles. We trust the source of the decision, which allows us to applaud our own courage…but the timing of the spirit can feel audacious!
We take a leap, and then the panic hits! Little what-ifs with dismal paint brushes systematically sketched pictures of doom. Where was my original trust and abandon? Fear began a litany by suggesting that God used peace to trick me into taking a particular action just to teach me a few more hard lessons. Trepidation offered small consolation that I’d make it through and character would be built…and in the end I’d be grateful for the demanding experience. This interpretation has appeased me through many rough seasons…but now it seemed misguided.
Confusion and dread were present. I had a decision to make. Would I believe that God was engineering my demise just to build character? Or would I trust His benevolence to prosper a dream He’d planted? Must every lesson come through pain and heartache? Or could I abandon a false need for suffering? Circumstance always aids comprehension and what looks like conflict, confusion, or an onslaught of doubt, is often a catalyst for increased faith.
I recognized the ego trying to attach itself to the education process as it deliberated which lessons I still needed to learn or repeat. Ego wants the glory that only an abiding life can produce. God doesn’t need me to figure out the lesson He’s teaching so that the ego (with its misguided notion of a separate identity) can jump on board and help Him along. It’s false to think I must know ahead of time what the next lesson is going to be.
True lessons come through the spontaneous life of Christ. He isn’t trying to teach (in a separated sense) or needing cooperation or collaboration to ensure success. He teaches by being Himself in, through, and as me. Learning occurs in me, not to me. It’s the effect of union with Christ; a natural by-product of the new heart. It is a component of who I am; I have no need to be taught…and yet, I will learn.
There’s a paradox at play. When I say, “I can learn,” the role of teacher, lesson, and student are integrated as one. But the idea that there’s still a “lesson I need to be taught” separates me from the teacher and from the lesson I need to learn. The words suggest division, lack of completion, and the necessity of an outside source. In reality, I don’t learn externally – which doesn’t mean that outside sources don’t ignite internal lessons…they do. But the outside source is not my ‘teacher’ because it has no power to cause me to learn. Learning is a response, an ability that is gifted in and through union with Christ.
There’s not a hard lesson waiting to be taught, only a life of learning to be spontaneously lived…in peace and joy and the absence of fear…