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Life is full of "what if" moments--those moments when you stand back a look at a situation, whether good or bad, and imagine how things might have gone if you had done things differently. Without question, these moments are usually pointless, as they only serve to waste time and cause eventual depression. "What if" moments are not productive, unless, of course, you make them so.
A mere seven hours ago I drove towards the main building on campus, preparing to lead evening vespers, only to realize that I had left my Bible by the door at home. After apprehending it, I crossed paths with Sir Julien, who informed me that there was some anxious anticipation that I had not yet arrived inside. I made my way inside to hear the lively, almost frighteningly so, songs of worship, and pulled out my Bible, and glanced at a card with notes I had jotted down earlier in church, preparing to speak that evening. A mere 20 minutes earlier I had been sound asleep, but awakened and roused quickly, knowing the time limit. Now I heard the call for opening song and saw everyone stand.
"I might have prepared better," I thought to myself. The notes were basic. Five passages, one illustration, and two Bible stories. On a wing and a prayer, I walked toward the front, bumbled over an introduction, and offered opening prayer.
Fast-forward.
Appeal time. I recapped the points on friendship, and called for all those willing to have an unashamed relationship with God to stand. Most did. I exhaled softly and offered a closing prayer. As I made my way towards the back, some of the kids approached me, stating that they enjoyed and appreciated the message. Moments later, several staff members commended me for bringing such a timely message. I smiled and gave glory to God, knowing I really hadn't done anything.
The evening waxed late, I made my way home, warmed up a snack, and retreated to the small confines of my room. Tired, but not sleepy, I pulled up a random movie online that looked amusing enough, and leaned back to pass the time. Now here I am, taking stock of the day.
What if...
What if, I say, what if I had taken the time to ensure that my heart and mind were fully prepared to present the message? What if I had determined to pray and not faint? What if I neglected the sleep before preaching and engaged it afterward instead of wasting my time with some foolishness through the middle of the night? Could not the Spirit have moved more freely? Would not the effects have been more powerful?
Were this an occasional occurrence, I would have naught for which to abase myself, but timelessly, consistently, I find myself to be an unfaithful steward of the most costly commodity--one that cannot be bought or sold, made nor destroyed, only used or wasted--time. One of my favorite authors made a statement that if we would but make the Word of God the object of our focus, we would find no need to look for further revelation and inspiration.
And now begin the hours of Sunday, a day upon which most men in my country find able time to waste--3 to 6 hours, if not 9--Football Sunday. Now I determine to engage myself thusly, that I no longer leave the "what if" moment unimproved, but rather embrace the Word for a solid hour to see if the world becomes less tasteful and more wasteful. And then, a day before, how much better suited may I be to rightly deal the Word of truth, in word, in conversation, in deed? Time will tell.
Next time, do yourself a favor. Make your next "what if" moment a productive one.
(disclaimer: these are the ramblings of an over-active, over-taxed, under-rested, under-fed mind and body, and being such may not be initially coherent)
o⋅be⋅di⋅ence [oh-bee-dee-uhns]
–noun
1. the state or quality of being obedient.
2. the act or practice of obeying; dutiful or submissive compliance.
3. the trait of being willing to obey.
force [fawrs, fohrs]
–verb (used with object)
1. to compel, constrain, or oblige (oneself or someone) to do something.
2. to drive or propel against resistance.
3. to put or impose (something or someone) forcibly on or upon a person.
Can obedience be forced?
The question is simple enough, and the answer may seem to be the same as well. Some would immediately assert, "Yes, it can be!" Others would state the contrary. Both sides have valid points to make.
Conflict
Obedience can be forced.
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If you define obedience as complying with the will of another, then by all means, obedience can be forced. For example, I tell you to sit down. You refuse. I then force you to take a seat. Obedience was forced.
Obedience cannot be forced.
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If you define obedience as complying with the will of another, then by all means, obedience cannot be forced. For example, I tell you to pay attention. You refuse. I cannot force you to do so. Obedience could not be forced.
Thus in these cases, operating with the same definition, two contrary conclusions arise.
Resolution:
In order for both examples to work under the same definition, we must modify the definition of obedience and the force of it to account for limitations. Obedience may be forced as the mandate of the commanding power is attachable to physical, manipulateable response. I can make you follow me, but I cannot make you believe I know where I'm going.
Expansion and Application:
While on some levels--namely physical--obedience may be forced, on others--eg. mental, rational, or psychological--it cannot be. However, perhaps the simple fact is that forced obedience is more destructive than listless negligence. To force against the will destroys the future likelihood of the subservient party willfully submitting.
From the example of God, we see a better solution. God never forces obedience. Rather, He leaves humanity free to do as it pleases, merely explaining the results of obedience and disobedience.
Just a thought: next time, instead of forcing obedience, explain expectations and consequences, and let a person choose to obey or disobey for himself or herself.
Humans--they fail.
The Middleton--he's human.
Conclusion--he fails too.
Sitting back knowing all I need to do, my thoughts are pervaded by this thought. Not merely of the ability of humans to fail but also their aptness. Failure is a part of our lives, however miniscule or epic the scale may be. People fail us. We fail them. We fail ourselves. This brings a measure of discomfort, and perhaps rightfully so, yet, it being such a part of our existence, if not our species' definition, should we not accept it? May we actually accept it without being comfortable with it?
Is there a difference between innocent failure and blatant failure? Does intention define failure? For example, if you did something you intended to do, or knew better than to do, is that a failure of success? Or, if you you did something you didn't mean to do, is it a failure or an accomplishment?
It's all in your eyes.
You're human. You fail. I'm human. I fail. You may fail me. I may fail you. Accept that much. In light of that, let's all just be realistic and accept our humanity, with all it entails, and stop pretending like failure is such a big deal or such a small deal. It's just a deal. When dealing with humans, failure comes entailed. Be mindful of that next time you interact with a human.