That’s Not How I Do It
Ben and I were newly engaged. We were eating our dinner one night that consisted of subs and bags of chips. As we finished Ben graciously went to clean up our wrappers, crumpling them all together in one big trash pile. Without so much of a thought stopping me I exclaimed (almost involuntarily) “That’s not how I do it!”. It was a passionate outcry and stopped us both in our tracks. Seeing that I had truly committed to showing my crazy I then proceeded to explain to him that I first would neatly roll my sandwich wrapper and then place it inside the chip bag. At this point you are either shaking your head in agreement or disgust. I know. It was absurd. I was instructing my future husband on how to throw away the trash in the appropriate manner, rather than simply thinking how nice it was that he was performing a service for me.
I wish I could say that was the only time in life or even marriage that I have exclaimed those words. But it’s not. “That’s not how I do it” is a common phrase I find myself repeating over and over again. The two people I say it to the most: Ben and God.
While in my marriage there are times where it is important to share how I do things and for what reason it is also important to let Ben find the way he does it. I’ve learned over the years (and continue to learn) that how we do it, is as unique as our fingerprint. But just as it can be our strength, it can also be our weakness.
I can’t think of a time when I have told God “That’s not how I do it” where I have been right. I cannot think of a time where God’s plan has been substandard to my plan. And yet, I keep finding myself telling Him how He should do it. The most grace giving part of this is that even when I try to strong arm my way into the picture with God, he always shows me back to His way.
The disciples are often a frustrating mystery to me. They have God’s son standing right in front of them, performing miracles: healing the sick, walking on water, multiplying food. And yet they still ask Him why He is doing things the way he is doing them. They still question and doubt. It feels so foolish and short sighted, maybe even blind. But isn’t that what I am doing when I shout at God that it should be done my way, not His? Aren’t I picking up where the disciples left off in questioning his actions? And while I like to look back at those walking with Jesus and think, “how could you not see what was before you?” I am looking through a lens of completion. I have seen the whole story. I have seen Christ’s way of doing it from birth to resurrection. Of course it’s easy for me to judge. Yet, even while I still know the whole story of my salvation I am still exclaiming to God “That’s not how I do it!”.
How are you telling God what to do?
How can you choose to obey rather than attempt to lead?
Is there a way you always do something in your life that you could explore trying a new way?
