Acquiescence

I am proud of my boyfriend. He has accomplished a lot, and he's doing very well, and I love to see that. But that's not really what I'm talking about here.

He's just good. And that's what makes me proud.

I don't have to fight with him or "play games" or scheme to get what I want. Usually what we want is the same thing. We have the same goals for the future, and I know we will find places where those don't quite overlap as perfectly as we think, or where our ideas of how to get there don't perfectly mesh, but that doesn't scare me. Because he cares for me, truly and very deeply. And that love, with its earnestness so pure it amazes me, lends sincerity to his desire to include me in every decision he makes.  

I also don't need to "train him." That same love is patient and knows that sometimes I want things he doesn't understand. If it's important to me, he makes it important to him. I don't need to condition him - I need to communicate with him. And I need to remember that sometimes he thinks what I want just doesn't make any sense, and it really doesn't. 

He would go out of his way to make me happy in anything. He literally just spent an hour looking up corny jokes on the internet, trying to find one to make me smile because he knew I wasn't doing too hot. The minute he senses that I feel bad he's there with a hug and a shoulder for me to wipe my nose on and his concern is genuine in a way that epitomizes his love for me I think. 

If I want something, all I have to do is ask. He may say no, but he will always consider it before he does. He's the logical one, and I can always count on him to be my counterbalance. I know too that it will never be neglect of my desires that causes the negative decision. Conceding that Star Trek is sometimes better than Star Wars - that little acquiescence is the mark of a man that really cares.

His love reminds me of a greater one, and it encourages me to do better on my part. His devotion is such a wonderful gift, and it makes me so thankful, that I want to do my best for him too.

Gideon

      The story of Gideon and the fleece has always been one of comfort to me, but also of some befuddlement.

36  And Gideon said unto God, If thou wilt save Israel by mine hand, as thou hast said,

37  Behold, I will put a fleece of wool in the floor; and if the dew be on the fleece only, and it be dry upon all the earth beside, then shall I know that thou wilt save Israel by mine hand, as thou hast said.

38  And it was so: for he rose up early on the morrow, and thrust the fleece together, and wringed the dew out of the fleece, a bowl full of water.

39  And Gideon said unto God, Let not thine anger be hot against me, and I will speak but this once: let me prove, I pray thee, but this once with the fleece; let it now be dry only upon the fleece, and upon all the ground let there be dew.

40  And God did so that night: for it was dry upon the fleece only, and there was dew on all the ground.

      Gideon says twice that he knows God has said it will be so, yet he still asks for proof. And not just one form of substantiation, but this complex dewey vs dry thing twice. He wasn't satisfied with just God saying Israel would be saved by his hand. He needed a sign. Twice.
      I've always wondered why God gave it to him. Twice. Even Gideon was a little worried that God would get fed up with him because when he asked the second time he was a little hesitant, sort of going to God with his hands up like an apologetic fence-sitter - Ok, don't get mad when I ask this, and this is the last time I'll ask, I promise, but could I get just one more?
      I say this like I'm incredulous, like I really can't believe Gideon could do such a thing, but that's not the case. I empathize completely. That's why the story is also comforting. We have a very patient God who doesn't roll his eyes when I go to him for the 45,272,884,626,720,938,475,638th time today to ask that he remind me of his presence, be with me in this trial, give me some modicum of comfort to help me get through just this moment.


     I have been told that the command to "fear not" is in the Bible in some form 365 times, one for every day. And I need every single one of them. There are few times when I am not worried about something, and there are days when I could read all 365 and still beg for more damp fleece.
      It's not that I doubt God's word. It says over and over - sort of as a companion phrase, I think, to the "fear not" - that He will neither fail thee nor forsake thee; which is to remind you that God won't leave you without hope, and he won't fail in anything he tries. You can't somehow escape the reach of God's comforting hand; you are never in too deep for his help.
      What I fear instead is that though he is able to fulfill his will, maybe his will isn't the same as mine. I pray to do good on this test, and I know that he could help me make a perfect score if he wanted, but maybe he doesn't want. Maybe I didn't study enough and I won't get the grade that I want. I know to just do my best and let God handle the rest, but maybe I didn't work hard enough, maybe I should have done more, maybe it's my end of the deal that won't get upheld. It's completely ridiculous. Honestly, trying to put it into words now makes it seem like the silliest thing. Like God and I have this contract about my grades and if I don't do my part of the bargain, neither will he. (From this I can extrapolate and I really become so thankful for a doctrine not based on the works of man. Free grace is the most wonderful thing I've ever heard. If fear for my grades is this debilitating, imagine what fear for my eternal salvation would be like...) So I wind up going back to the Lord over and over again, asking for peace, reassurance, comfort, support, anything.


     So why does God continue to dish out the fear not and the be not afraid and the oh ye of little faith? He's the ever-merciful soup kitchen attendant with an endless supply of warm meals for the needy - never turning away, sometimes saying wait, but always delivering. It's because he knows we need it. We are so weak and feeble that we require repetitive reminding and reassurance. Our sinful nature keeps us slipping like sweaty hands on a non-mechanical, number two test pencil. And it's okay to need it. It keeps us present in the throne room.

      And one more thing. When Gideon asked for the fleece to be wet, the results weren't questionable. It wasn't just a little moist, there was a bowl's worth of water wrung from it.
      Sin also makes us come back over and over. The king's dainty meats are sweet and tempting, but they are also deceitful and hardly filling. We go back to sin out of habit like the nauseated canine, feeling relief for a while but then sick again. Both repetitious behaviors are due to weakness; we are weak to sin and sinful promise is too weak to stand up to the meat of God's word. So when we find ourselves going back for more, we should question the cook and try the spirits. If it is of the Lord, we will wring the fleece and take a swim; if not, we will find ourselves hungry, wanting, and looking for another place to eat.