Things I Can't Do

My preschoolers give me the best stories.  Last week, I was teaching the children about firefighters and fire trucks. I believe I had just asked the question, "What is special about a fire truck?" I was getting answers like "It has a hose," or "There are ladders." One young lady kept her hand up high. When I finally got to her, she asked me, "Do you sleep?" Another girl beside her, trying to help out, said, "I think she means the firefighters. Do they sleep at the fire station?" I said, "Is that what you mean?" The first girl said, rather emphatically, "No! You - do YOU sleep?" She pointed at me. I replied, "Yes. I sleep. God made our bodies to need rest, so I sleep." She seemed satisfied. Just when I thought they were all listening....Oh well. That question has probably been bothering her for a long time. Who knew? Teachers sleep.

At about this time of the year, we teachers start gearing up for things ahead. We have conferences on the horizon, and the preparation for them weighs on us. Assistants are teaching more, as the leads are doing assessments, so their workload gets heavier. The school year is in full swing, as are many of the ministries we are involved in. Our calendars just get more and more filled up as Christmas approaches. Do teachers sleep? Do we do anything that isn’t on our calendars?

The Christian and Missionary Alliance Facebook page recently posted this quote by A. W. Tozer: “Maybe God is calling you to do something extraordinary that isn’t on your calendar, something to revive your own soul!” I think it’s a temptation to say, “I know what I can and can’t do, and I absolutely can’t do anything extraordinary. “ I want to talk about some of the times I have declared emphatically “I can’t” only to be overruled by God.

Last great pic of Dad & Mom, October 1999

“I can’t” number one: I can’t handle watching my parents age and die. I don’t want to, and I can’t.  As the youngest child of older parents, I often felt some degree of fear that they would be gone much too soon. Still, it kind of surprised me when one day I looked at them and they were old. My mom seemed very healthy, and yet, at 79 years old, she was gone. She passed away rather suddenly, after heart bypass surgery. My kids were little, and we all loved her very much. I ached inside and didn’t want to go through the arduous process of grieving her loss; but even more than that, I didn’t want to go through the process of watching my father grieve the loss of his wife of 55 years. Dad’s health declined over the following years. I firmly told the Lord, “I don’t want to watch him slip away and die. I can’t, Lord – please don’t make me.” God did not seem to hear me. I watched my dad go from a man who could still ride a horse at 80 years old, to a man confined to a wheel chair and living in a nursing home at 90 years old. It was hard to watch someone who was so active and so in love with all things outdoor become more and more confined.  I found the process of watching him age heartbreaking, and of course the process of watching him die was even more difficult. I just didn’t want to let go, and I often told God I couldn’t do it. I was afraid of watching someone die, but as it turned out, I was there when my dad died. My brothers and I held hands with him and with each other as we stood around his bed and prayed him into heaven. It was one of the most difficult nights of my life, but also one of the most beautiful. When I think that my fear might have prevented me from being there, I shudder. What do I miss most now that Dad has been gone almost three years? I miss serving him. I miss pushing his wheelchair down the hall of the care center where he spent his last days. I miss getting him a plate of food before I get my own at family events. I miss holding his hand and saying nothing, as I did that last month of his life. God knew that I could do it all, but more than that, he knew the person I would be on the other side of it. He wanted me to be that person rather than remaining the fearful person I had been.   

“I can’t” number two: I can’t share the gospel, and I certainly can’t help lead an adult to Christ. I was raised in the United Methodist church. Although I came to Christ there, I don’t think anyone around me would ever have used the words “coming to Christ” to describe my experience. I grew up in a community of faithful, quiet believers, but it was more like it was EXPECTED that we were believers from the beginning rather than rejoicing in a personal entry into our faith. It was not in my experience to talk about a personal relationship with God. When I headed to college, I was surrounded by believers from a more evangelical background. They began the process of introducing me the process of verbalizing the  faith I had inside. Still, while I gained the ability to talk about what God meant to me in a safe, Christian circle, I was still very uncomfortable sharing with unbelievers. Fast forward to the time when my children were little. We had been attending Christ Community Church for a few years, and my cousin was new to town. She came into my life very much in need and very much an unbeliever. God put her in my life in such a way that I could not help sharing my faith with her. I was exceedingly uncomfortable doing it, but she asked questions and I answered. I prayed a lot over that situation, and eventually, she did come to the Lord. And now, I feel certain God is telling me to be on the watch. He is purposefully nudging me toward someone. Of course, my instinct is to say “I can’t.” It might be uncomfortable. There might be conflict. (I hate conflict.) And I might be petrified. God tosses those excuses out the window and tells me that I can, if he says I can.

Cambodia and me

“I can’t” number three:  I can’t do overseas missions: short term, long term, any term. Go ahead and laugh. Most of you know by now the story of how God called me to go to Cambodia. I was eager to pray for Cambodia. I had it all figured out, that I would pray for the missionaries and send care packages to them. I would greet them when they came home on furlough. I would be excited by every communication with those missionaries, and I would support them with my money along with my prayers. And I would even pray for the other short-termers who went over to Cambodia. I would do it all from the safety and comfort of home. God interrupted my plans and my praise time at Missions Conference three years ago to tell me he had some different things in mind for me. He thought I could go to Cambodia, and He told me to do it. I dissolved into a teary puddle and gave in. What else could I do? I was a mixed bag of emotions along the way: excited, terrified, humbled, exhilarated, eager, anxious, and so much more. I had never traveled to a foreign country other than Canada, never lived outside of the southeast corner of Minnesota, never even ate exotic foods. But I did what God told me I had to, and crossed another item of my “I can’t” list. You know what? I’d go back in a heartbeat. Cambodia changed me, and I am so grateful to God for his insistence that I go.

It might seem cliché to quote Paul in Philippians 4:13 and say, “I can do all things through him who gives me strength.” I think we tend to spit out that verse without really thinking about it. But as far as I can tell, it’s the real deal. When Jesus walked the earth, even he said “I can’t do anything by myself.” Jesus, the Savior of the world, when he was wholly man yet wholly God, had an “I can’t.” In John 5:19, he said, “Truly, truly, I say to you, the Son can do nothing of his own accord, but only what he sees the Father doing. For whatever the Father does, that the Son does likewise.” Again in 5:30, he says, “I can do nothing on my own. As I hear, I judge, and my judgment is just, because I seek not my own will but the will of him who sent me.” Our God is a God of power, and if he commands us to do something, there is no doubt that he also gives us the power to accomplish it. Really, the only legitimate “I can’t” is the one Jesus said: “I can’t without God.”

It says in Ephesians 3:20-21, “Now to him who is able to do immeasurably more than all we ask or imagine, according to his power that is at work within us, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus throughout all generations, for ever and ever! Amen. “ If you ask me, it might be worth it to shake things up. Maybe God is calling you to do something extraordinary that isn’t on your calendar, something to revive your own soul. As mission week approaches here at Christ Community, I hope we can all take a break from our calendars and be open to doing something extraordinary.