control versus apathy

You know what the world tells me? We’re supposed to live believing that you can control your life, that bad things eventually happen to bad people, and good things eventually happen to good people—and that if you work hard, if you smile at the right people, if you invest wisely, then things will go pretty much your way. You’ll persevere and climb the mountain. You’ll find that soul mate. You’ll land in that wonderfully fulfilling job. You are so entitled. You're worth it.

But life has a nasty way of knocking those houses of cards over. Bad things happen to good people. Senseless acts of violence occur every day. Kids kill kids. People abuse spouses, children, coworkers, the elderly…you name it, someone’s hurting someone. Including themselves. Every ninety minutes, someone commits suicide in America. Natural disasters and accidents and diseases are everywhere. Why?

There is no why, not the way we understand it. Life is out of control. People cannot control one single thing. Not even the words out of our mouths. Even our breathing occurs without our volition. Thinking you can really control your life makes about as much sense as trying to sail the ocean in a paper boat.

Well, since we can’t control anything, what’s the point? Why should we do anything? Why should we care? Why should we act? Things will never change. Just sit this one out. No matter how hard you fight, or prepare, or save, it can all be knocked away in a moment. No matter how many people you try to help, there will always be a million more suffering. No, thank you. Opt out. Choose not to choose. Step away from the cruel coldness of life. And cover your insecurity and fear with snarky criticism. Get sarcastic.

If not control, choose apathy. One or the other. Those are your only two options. That’s what I hear in both ears, every day.

Bull.

That is a false dichotomy, a sinful lie that has been spread so thick we can barely breathe without inhaling it. And so many of use relax into its embrace. Brilliant young adults coast through life, making selfish choices.

And let me say, that makes me want to kick and scream and swear, and wish that it were possible to beat people into right thinking. But you know what—there’s a better answer than my stick of justice.

When we ask why, when we seek either control or its inverse, apathy, we miss the point. We’re asking the wrong questions. Complete understanding and control are not ours. They are God’s.

In the book of John, chapter 1, it speaks of the light (Jesus) shining in the darkness. And the darkness, depending on your translation “could not understand it,” or “could not overcome it.” When we want to fully understand God, when we want to absolutely know how and why—that is when God would no longer be God. A god that can fit so neatly into my pocket is no kind of Creator or Savior. A god that I can comprehend and therefore conquer is not God.

Book of Job. Love it. Because when God shows up, he doesn’t answer Job’s “why” questions. He doesn’t justify the tragedies that occurred. He doesn’t give a reason. He just says, “You’re asking the wrong questions, Job. You’re focusing on the wrong stuff. I am God. ME. Consider my majesty and redirect your thinking.” And Job says, “I see now—I’m so wrong. You’re so right.” And he praises, through the pain.

Job grieves. Job suffers. Job has crappy friends. Job gets shafted. Job endures with no foreseeable benefits. God does not dismiss that, nor does he provide a pat answer.

“Redirect your thinking, Job. Focus on me. Don't miss the point. Grieve, but grieve in my embrace. Struggle, but know that there is a reality so far beyond your struggles that expecting me to swoop down like a fairy godmother is ridiculous.” (Ok, so that's not really a direct quote from the Bible. Picky, picky.)

Bad things don’t diminish God’s transforming power. He is sovereign. Whatever this crazy world throws at you, he can and will use it for good. Sometimes a good so great you cannot even recognize it from your limited perspective. An ant standing in front of a mature oak tree doesn’t see a tree—he sees a limitless wall. And so it is with us, and life, and all the crap we’re stepping in.

You know what—crap is crap—and it is also fertilizer, over time. It stinks, but let nature work it, and it will help you grow.

Does a plant know it’s growing? Maybe. Maybe not, until it bears fruit.

I am out of control. I will grieve and I will hurt and I will wonder why. And I repudiate apathy and it’s cause—fear. I repudiate helplessness. Sitting still is for sissies. God built me for purpose, for action.

And yet—my life is not a sum of what I do. What I do is the effect, not the cause. My life is who I am while I’m doing it. What is true, what is real, is my relationship with God, wherever I am, whatever happens to me.

God does not call us to sit on our keisters and let life go by. Opposite! God calls us to strive, to work—to run the race, as Paul puts it. There’s no arriving. And that thought should bring not fear, but joy. I cannot control the path. I don’t have to control the path. I am released from that burden. My path will be smooth, rocky, hilly, muddy…

And always an adventure.

Run. Breathe. Don’t quit. Turn a deaf ear to the world’s crappy logic. And please, please, for the love of God, look beyond the why.