Now That I Have Your Attention:
The Gifts and Blessings of God’s Loving Discipline
I don’t recall where we were headed on that particular road trip with my dad. I don’t recall how old I was, but I’d guess probably ten or eleven. It was just the two of us that day in his old Ford pickup, and I always enjoyed those one-to-one times with my dad.
At some point in our various discussions, we drifted onto the topic of discipline. My dad wasn’t one to spare the rod (or belt, in his case). And all parents know “the look:” the facial expression that says, “That’s enough! Don’t push it!” That was usually enough for me, as my dad had a powerful look. I’ve joked before that my dad had a look that could render you unconscious. He’d just give you the look, and down you’d go.
During our conversation, I offered up some hypothetical transgression, asking what the punishment for such an infraction might be. He considered the wrongdoing for a moment and said, “Well, we’d just have to sit down and have a talk about that.”
I was stunned. I wondered if we had entered a new realm of the father-son relationship. Had the days of him snatching off his belt and adding bright pink highlights to my buttocks and upper legs come to an end?
I asked, “We’d talk about it?”
He nodded and continued, “Sure. Something like that would require a serious talk. But before we could talk, I’d need to get you attention.”
I knew what he meant, and we both laughed at his response. Later, when my behavior bordered on the need for his intervention, he would revisit the conversation, too: “Do I need to get your attention, or…”
Getting My Attention
In many ways, the course leading to my current walk with Christ was laid out within God’s intervention, specifically pertinent to my late-life sojourn into a wilderness. My wilderness was a wasteland of selfishness, conflict, alcoholism, divorce, isolation, and illness. This was a relatively short segment of my life, beginning as I approached retirement. But it culminated in several multi-faceted, life-changing direct hits that I now refer to as a “cascade of corrective calamities.”
Some might say that it would be illogical to refer to being physically, emotionally, financially, and spiritually wrecked as an “enormous set of blessings.” Early on, as I took stock of all that I had lost in just a few years, “blessings” was not the title of that inventory. But I came to understand that “totally wrecked” was precisely how God wanted me to come before him. He finally had my attention.
For me, He had always been there. But after praying the prayer of salvation at the age of fifteen, I confess that, for almost fifty years, my relationship with Christ varied from being in close step to being on the far side of the road, my spiritual blinders on, and my fingers jammed firmly into my spiritual ears. But I prayed, often for desires, wants, and protection, but also offering prayers of gratitude.
On the morning of December 18, 2017, when I was absolutely certain I was about to meet God, I prayed a brief but sincere prayer. That morning, my aorta, the largest vessel in the body, literally ripped open from one end almost to the other. For you medical types, the dissection began just above the aortic valve, traveled through the arch, and down the descending side to a point just above the bifurcation at the common iliac arteries.
My wife drove me to the ER, but by the time we arrived I had no feeling in my extremities, and my breath was coming only in gasps. She ran inside to ask the staff to bring out a gurney. As total numbness enveloped the rest of my body, I briefly thought about the stories I’d heard from people who described their family members as having “fought for their lives.” But there was no “fighting” this, so I faced what I perceived to be reality, and I prayed accordingly:
“So, this is it, Lord? I always wondered if I would see it coming or if death would blindside me. I’m not sure if it’s my time, Lord, and I don’t know what’s happening, but I know I’m in bad shape. I’m yours. There’s either about to be a big homecoming and family reunion, or I’m in for a long haul of some sort, but you’ve got this either way, God.”
Just as my wife returned to the car, everything went black. She would later recall that, as my head rolled back, I said, “Okay. Here we go.” I recall saying it, but I didn’t know if it had been audible.
Later, when I regained consciousness in the ER, I learned that my meeting with God might only be postponed until later that morning.
Obviously, I survived the ordeal, and I’ll elaborate on this in an upcoming post about
God’s providence.
Almost four years later to the day, and by then having wandered deep into my wilderness, I would again pray that prayer. A staph infection in my lungs and bloodstream was defying the treatment team’s efforts to keep me alive. Their fear was that it would turn to sepsis, which is what killed my father.
But, once again, God didn’t take me home. Instead, He lovingly wrecked me, and I finally surrendered to Him while entangled in that wreckage.
Resistance is Futile
In the world of self-defense training, a concept has been phrased in various ways. The gist of the concept is this: to bring an end to a physical altercation, the pain you’re inflicting upon your opponent must completely drain them of their will to continue to fight.
Before I could be given a heart that was receptive to His plans for me, God showed me that He loved me enough to get my attention and guide me in a new direction. In my wilderness, I came to know my Savior in a profoundly different way than I had ever experienced or dreamed possible (see Ephesians 3:18-20).
Within the first verses of Hebrews 12 (NIV), the focus is on discipline:
4 In your struggle against sin, you have not yet resisted to the point of shedding your blood. 5 And have you completely forgotten this word of encouragement that addresses you as a father addresses his son? It says, “My son, do not make light of the Lord’s discipline, and do not lose heart when he rebukes you, 6 because the Lord disciplines the one he loves, and he chastens everyone he accepts as his son.”
7 Endure hardship as discipline; God is treating you as his children. For what children are not disciplined by their fathers?
8 If you are not disciplined—and everyone undergoes discipline—then you are not legitimate, not true sons and daughters at all. 9 Moreover, we have all had human fathers who disciplined us, and we respected them for it. How much more should we submit to the Father of spirits and live! 10 They disciplined us for a little while as they thought best; but God disciplines us for our good, in order that we may share in his holiness. 11 No discipline seems pleasant at the time, but painful. Later on, however, it produces a harvest of righteousness and peace for those who have been trained by it. 12 Therefore, strengthen your feeble arms and weak knees.
13 “Make level paths for your feet,” so that the lame may not be disabled, but rather healed.
Verse four speaks of “shedding blood.” What I shed was a marriage, my in-law family, a career, a beautiful home, my health, my reputation, and much more. But here’s the enormous difference between my shedding and the shedding in verse four: I wasn’t shedding blood while struggling against sin. Quite the contrary, I was struggling with everything I knew was right. I was struggling against everyone who represented what was right, and against everyone I judged to be wrong.
Many verses in God’s Word speak of His discipline and the mandate He issues to fathers to discipline their children in love. Because of God’s immeasurable love for us, He will allow us to wander into a self-created wilderness. And in the midst of that catastrophic tipping point, two weighty questions must be asked:
- Do you recognize that God is seeking your attention and that you’re being humbled and disciplined in love and care?
- Whether you recognize this or not, how will you respond?
On countless occasions in my work as a crisis and trauma counselor, I’ve heard people scream at God, “Why did you do this? How could you let this happen? I didn’t deserve this!” “I can’t bear this!”
I’ve heard people – Christians and others – assure the bereaved of this: “The Bible says God won’t give you more than you can bear.”
This may be one of the Bible’s most misquoted and taken-out-of-context verses. What Paul said in his first letter to the Corinthians (10:13 NIV) was, “…And God is faithful; he will not let you be tempted beyond what you can bear. But when you are tempted, he will also provide a way out so that you can endure it.” (emphasis added)
Christians bearing the “unbearable” is the topic of a later post
God has been screamed at and had a gazillion fists shaken at Him. He knew we would experience excruciating heartbreak and pain when He equipped us with emotions. He knows anger is one of the most readily available emotional reactions to pain.
Think about the last time you hung your little toe on the leg of the coffee table while in full stride. What was it you yelled? What emotion was that exclamation based upon?
Many of those who are angry with God didn’t contribute to or cause their specific, painful ordeals. But it’s not for me to presume to know the means and mechanisms of God’s work or His plans in their lives. Although suffering may be divine discipline, it is certainly not always related to a person’s sin or the need to be corrected. As verse 7 just encouraged us, we should “Endure hardships as discipline; God is treating you as children.”
Dr. Don Carson, co-founder and theologian-at-large with The Gospel Coalition, addresses this and other facets of suffering in a multi-part podcast on God’s providence. As above, he reiterates Hebrews 12:8, saying:
“…if God doesn’t discipline you at some point, then you are (the language is very blunt) a bastard, you’re an illegitimate child, because his genuine sons and daughters will be disciplined. God is a good father. That’s very strong language. That means that some of the things we face, some of the sufferings we face, are part of God’s rebuke or punishment or toughening us up.” (emphasis added)
So, what’s happening to us here?
It’s been said that we should never make life-changing decisions during a crisis. I’ve seen some outlandish commitments recanted or reneged upon after a crisis has passed. After pleading for God’s mercy, provision, and relief, the ones doing the pleading didn’t quit their jobs and join a ministry; sell all they owned and give the proceeds to the church; give up all their vices and bad habits, etc.
On the other end of the spectrum, I’ve had the privilege of visiting with people who came to know Christ as their savior in the wake of a horrific ordeal. My prayer was always that I was witnessing a personal, spiritual surrender and not just an emotional grasping for some semblance of pain relief. But I’ve also talked to people who are thirty years or more beyond that critical moment, and they’re still loving God, serving in Jesus’ name, and sharing the gospel at every opportunity.
Blame it on God?
Is being angry with God or blaming Him equivalent to saying that God has messed up or failed us in some way? Here’s an eternal truth: God, the sovereign creator and ruler of the universe, doesn’t mess up.
Isaiah 45:7 and 46:9-10 (NIV) emphasize God’s supremacy:
45:
7 I form light and create darkness; I make well-being and create calamity; I am the Lord, who does all these things.
46:
9 Remember the former things, those of long ago; I am God, and there is no other; I am God, and there is none like me. 10 I make known the end from the beginning, from ancient times, what is still to come. I say, ‘My purpose will stand, and I will do all that I please.’ (Emphasis added)
Adam and Eve messed up. We mess up – often. We’re all a bunch of wretched, sinful mess-ups. As such, we sometimes don’t react well when God does all He pleases. Moreover, we sometimes fail to recognize the possibility that we’re being lovingly admonished, and that we need to respond accordingly.
Proverbs 3:11-12 (ESV) tells us we shouldn’t despise the Lord’s discipline or resent His rebuke, because the “Lord disciplines those He loves, as a father the son he delights in.”
And in Romans 9:20 (ESV), the Apostle Paul asks, “But who are you, O man, to answer back to God? Will what [has been] molded say to its molder, “Why have you made me like this?” (Read: “Who do you think you are, blaming or questioning God like that?”)
Inviting God’s Discipline
In a seven-day devotional and reading in the YouVersion® app, Pastor Craig Groeschel invites readers to abandon their safe, bland, predictable prayers and to reach beyond their typical prayer boundaries. He suggests that we need to pray dangerously and live more boldly.
Right up front, Pastor Groeschel cautions readers as to the potential implications of this approach to prayer:
“When we’re seeking to communicate with God in real, vulnerable, and intimate prayer, He’s not wrapping us in a bubble of spiritual safety. Instead, He bursts our what’s-in-it-for-me bubble and invites us to trust Him when we don’t know what He will do next.
He goes on to add:
But be warned. There will be bumps. When you start to pray things like, “search me, break me, send me,” you may experience valleys. Attacks. Trials. Pain. Hardship. Discouragement. Even heartbreak. But there will also be the joy of faith, the marvel of miracles, the relief of surrender, and the pleasure of pleasing God.
Going through this devotional/reading plan, I considered my experiences and my relationship with Christ. I’m convicted by my honest answer to the question, Could I have prayed for all of this? What if I could have known that, during my cascade of corrective calamities, the painful yielding of so many aspects of my life would result in this growing relationship with God, the peace that I know, and the certainty I have in my salvation? Not only had I readily offered up my soul to God as I faced my own demise, but I was entirely at peace with the notion. But could I have as readily offered up my marriage, my reputation, my health, my financial stability – in earnest – if I was assured of the “joy of faith, the marvel of miracles, the relief of surrender, and the pleasure of pleasing God” of which Pastor Groeschel speaks?
No, I couldn’t have. I’m not that courageous. Furthermore, I couldn’t have imagined the profound nature of those blessings (see again Ephesians 3:18-20). God knew I wasn’t that courageous, and yet He blessed me with all those things and so much more.
We’re hurt or offended by others when they don’t do as they say they will, especially if the results have a significant impact on our lives. But, as noted above, God says His purpose will stand, and He will do all He pleases. We should trust Him in that, even if His plan causes us immense, long-term pain.
God doesn’t “punish” His children in anger. It’s not His “wrath” we’re experiencing. He disciplines us to train, re-direct, and possibly start us along a new path. And, as Dr. Carson noted, sometimes we just need to be spiritually “toughened up.”
Revisiting Isaiah 46:10, God is doing as He pleases. We are the spiritual beneficiaries of the blessings that come about through the trials, challenges and painful ordeals that we would never have prayed for ourselves.
Wrapping up
1 Peter 1:6-7 (ESV):
6 In this you rejoice, though now for a little while, if necessary, you have been grieved by various trials, 7 so that the tested genuineness of your faith—more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire—may be found to result in praise and glory and honor at the revelation of Jesus Christ.