Declining an opportunity for momentum (extra long post)
Many of us find it nearly impossible to stay still. “If you’re not moving, you are dying”; sometimes that seems like the battle cry of our culture. We feel we must maintain momentum—the big MO—in personal and organizational life at all costs. To sit still and wait is a vice; initiative, energy, and ambition are embraced as the virtuous mark of somebody who really has something going for them.
If the next step or the right answer escapes us we can easily find ourselves depressed and/or in despair. So what do we do when momentum is absent? What goes on when there is no clear path ahead and life must slow down for just a moment? When patience is required, do we even have the capacity for it? Is there ever a time when it is right to refuse to grasp for our own solution?
I think there are moments God specifically leads us into where we don’t know the solution and aren’t sure we ever will. It is during those critical points that we can choose to grasp and manipulate our way towards an answer, or we can sit still before the God who knows all answers.
Elijah found himself stuck in this kind of moment. He needed an answer. Desperately. If anybody deserved a response to a sticky situation, Elijah certainly did. He had served God with dynamic passion and was forced to run for his life against an arch enemy of the Lord (read about it in 1 Kings 19). He was at the end of his rope. He was tired. He was alone. He didn’t know what was next. He asked God to take his life—“and would you take it now please”. I’ll say it again: Elijah really needed an answer!
But God didn’t give him an answer; at least not right away. He asked Elijah a question instead: “What are you doing here, Elijah?” And then God gave him a directive “Go wait for my presence to pass by”.
And he did. And as he waited for God’s presence to pass by a curious thing happened. First there was an epic wind—the kind that tears apart buildings and throws boulders as if they were pebbles. This is an incident that would surely seem, to most onlookers, like the manifestation of God’s presence. But in his heart, Elijah knew better.
Next came the earthquake. If I were Elijah I might be worried that God was somewhat frustrated with me for passing up the wind, that maybe the earthquake was the Lord’s way of shaking me to wake me up to what He was trying to do or say: “why haven’t you got moving yet, Tim?” The earthquake may have jolted Elijah but his resolve was not shaken.
After the earthquake came the blazing five-alarm fire. Fire (and wind for that matter) is often Biblically understood as representing God’s presence; surely this was the opportunity Elijah was waiting for. Even if he wasn’t yet 100% sure, fire as a sign when you are waiting for God to show up is about as close vigrx warning as it gets. He could have settled for that sign, but he didn’t budge.
By this point If Elijah had friends around, they would probably have said, “Hey, Eli, you are missing out on some great opportunities here—what in the world are you waiting for?”
Three separate opportunities to jump at a chance to get in on something powerful; something stirring; something that looked a lot like action and momentum. Nobody would have blamed Elijah for assuming God had been passing by and for interpreting what that meant for him. Surely action here was warranted. But he was committed to wait for the unambiguous presence of the Lord. He didn’t know how that would show up, but he was confident he would know it when he saw it.
And then he heard it: The gentle whisper—the still, small voice of the Lord. That was it! God was speaking and now He would show Elijah what was supposed to come next.
As I reflected on this passage, I discovered something: I think this story helps us understand what Sabbath is supposed to be about. Sabbath is a day to remind me to stop and wait. This is a day where I remember that it’s not my effort, activity, or grasping that produces what I really need in my life. Sabbath is a day when I allow great-looking opportunities that might help me gain momentum to pass right on by. And the day of Sabbath is really a weekly reminder that I need to always live with an attitude of Sabbath (Hebrews 4) where my trust is placed in God alone and not in what I can manipulate, manufacture, massage, or manage.
When I feel like I’ve given my all out on the field; when I feel like I’m all alone; when I feel like I want to curl up and die; I don’t just jump on the momentum train to work up more energy or excitement or drive. Sometimes I have to let the parade pass right by—wind… earthquake… fire—and keep on waiting for that still small voice that I recognize as the Lord.
So here are some of the questions I ask myself in this: Do I demand an answer now or will I let God ask me the questions in his timing? Do I need to move the ball down the field, or will I allow The Lord to tell me to sit on the bench for a while until He sends me in for the play He has uniquely designed for me? I may tenaciously grasp a hold of an opportunity to propel myself to the next step, but if I’m not careful it will be a step that can take me far from God’s intended purpose for my life. Or as one friend is fond of saying “be careful what you ask for; you might be unfortunate enough to get it”.
I’m going to be talking some more about this on Sunday. If you are around San Dimas, CA and aren’t plugged into a church, I’d love to hang out with you at Lifehouse.