Finding God's Will

It takes the spirit of discovery and an openness to adventure

A phone conversation the other day brought home to me how the will of God is both less and more than what we tend to make of it. Less, because we don’t always get the answers from God that we want concerning the details of ordinary life that we spend so much time obsessing over. More, because what God has in store for us is far greater than the details of ordinary life that we spend so much time obsessing over.

The phone call was with one of the many young men who attend my church. A devoted husband and dad and a succesful businessman, he had received a few days earlier the kind of report no one wants to get from their doctor. Results from several medical tests had come back positive for cancer. It was a serious situation and treatment would need to start soon. When I heard the news I called him to find out more details and give him whatever spiritual support and guidance I could provide.

His response was nothing short of amazing. While he welcomed my prayers and encouragement, he felt it was more important for me to know that his diagnosis hadn’t plunged him into despair. Far from it! The doctor’s news in fact had opened the door into a greater degree of faith and intimacy with the Lord. Sure, he wanted to live and see his children grow up and was praying earnestly to that end (as are many others around him). But, he went on to tell me, the depths of God’s presence and peace that he was finding through his cancer was more meaningful than anything he had experienced before. A spirit of adventure had bubbled up in his soul to the point where he was filled with excitement for the future whatever happened next. So much so that his prayer regarding God’s will for his healing was almost secondary to his prayer that God wouldn’t let up in the new vision of life he was giving him.

As I listened to the young man speak, my mind was drawn to a passage in Paul’s letter to the Ephesians that speaks to the same experience as part of a greater truth:

For this reason I bow my knees before the Father…that according to the riches of his glory he may grant you to be strengthened with power through his Spirit in your inner being, so that Christ may dwell in your hearts through faith—that you, being rooted and grounded in love, may have strength to comprehend with all the saints what is the breadth and length and height and depth, and to know the love of Christ that surpasses knowledge, that you may be filled with all the fullness of God. (Ephesians 3:14-19)

More than most people, that young man’s testimony shows how a spirit of discovery and an openness to adventure lie at the heart of finding God’s will. While the Bible assures us that the Lord is concerned with the many details of our daily lives—in the Lord’s Prayer Jesus tells us to pray for our daily bread and elsewhere in Scripture we’re invited to pray for everything from health crises to marriage relationships to the salvation of our lost friends and everything in between—it also shows us a deeper truth about God’s will that we often forget. His will prioritizes our relationship with him in this life and the life to come; and the learning of that lesson often takes us through unexplored terrain and into uncharted territory.

What we usually mean when thinking about God’s will is specific information for making hard choices or direct help in facing dangerous circumstances, as if his will is like an architect’s blueprint that a builder uses when he constructs a house or a doctor’s script a pharmacist consults as she prepares a prescription. We want a clear plan, a detailed map, a set of instructions laid out plainly in front of our nose. That’s why we tend to express our search for God’s will the way that we do:

“What’s God’s plan for my life’s vocation?”

“Which house does God want me to buy for my family?”

“How should I pray for my loved one in a health crisis?”

“Does God want me to accept this job opportunity?

“Where does God want me to go to college?”

“Who does God want me to marry?”

The problem with this approach is that it has a way of reducing God’s will to the pragmatic level. We look for his will in order to fix things, resolve issues or get help. Like solving a math problem if we can apply the right theorem or completing a puzzle if we can locate the right piece. But God’s will is more than that. It’s the unfolding of his love in and through the choices we make every day as we navigate the world’s chaos. Of course, as with all things in the spiritual life, there are exceptions. There have been many moments in my life when I sensed God’s direct intervention and instructions to do one thing instead of another thing, to take one road instead of the road next to it. We all have had those kinds of moments. But what I’m trying to get at is a larger, more dynamic understanding. A way of walking with Jesus that craves discovery more than details, a journey that focuses more on the distant mountains than the rocks on the footpath in front of you. Both dimensions are important; but if we lose sight of the greater vision what good is it if we’re able to settle the small details?

The Old Testament figure of Caleb is one of many people in the Bible who lived this way. According to the book of Joshua, Caleb was the leader of Israel’s army during the years of warfare necessary for the Jewish people to take possession of the promised land. Finally, when the battles were done and peace was at hand, Joshua asked his old war horse what land he’d like to claim in recognition of his service. The various tribes were assigned specific tracts of land according to a divine plan, but Caleb was entitled to the best land of all. “What plot would you like?” Joshua asked, expecting a reply like we would have given, focusing on the exact dimensions of whatever gentle pastureland or fertile river valley might catch his fancy and ensure a comfortable retirement. But not Caleb—he wanted none of that! His heart was set on a greater vision and higher purpose; and I have to confess every time I read his reply my heart soars and my spirit senses the adventure God has in store for all of us if we’ll only receive it:

“I am this day eighty-five years old. I am still as strong today as I was in the day that Moses sent me; my strength now is as my strength was then, for war and for going and coming. So now give me this hill country of which the Lord spoke on that day, for you heard on that day how the Anakim were there, with great fortified cities. It may be that the Lord will be with me, and I shall drive them out just as the Lord said.” (Joshua 14:11-12)

What’s the best way of understanding God’s will, of finding it, of doing it? More and more as I grow older, I think the best way is to understand and accept the spirit of discovery and an openness to adventure. You move in a direction, uncertain and unclear but driven forward by the voice that whispers in the night or the drumbeat that’s been sounding in your soul for so long that you can no longer ignore it or the distant music that’s so haunting and lovely that you must finally pay attention. And you say yes.

Thomas Cahill in his book, “How the Irish Saved Civilization,” tells the story of Columcille or, as he’s better known, Columba. Born in 521 into a royal household, he choose a different path than his peers and became a monk. But Columba wasn’t just an ordinary monk. Blessed with a passionate heart, a keen mind, a deep faith and an adventurous spirit, he soon became a missionary bishop charged with taking the gospel across the Irish Sea and into the wild areas of northern Scotland. By age 41 he had founded 41 monasteries, his best known being the abby on the island of Iona that was his base of operations. Today, Columba’s abby is still in operation as a center for Christian pilgrims.

Many of you probably know that I’m obsessed by Celtic Christiainity, so I won’t bore you with any more details of Columba’s life and ministry (even though he’s one of the most fascinating figures I know of) except for one. He called himself a “white” martyr in recognition of his missionary journeys across the sea.

Cahill explains. In the early church there were “red” martyrs, those men and women who were faithful to God even unto death, spilling their blood for Jesus. Later, when political persecution began to lessen, another group of martyrs emerged from the church. Called “green” martyrs, these men and women left the collapsing Roman Empire behind them in order to find peace and holiness in the wilderness, in the green areas of the world. “White” martyrs like Columba were next in line. Not killed for their faith as were the red martyrs, they didn’t flee civilization for the woods as did the green martyrs. Instead, white martyrs were those who were willing to step into boats and take the gospel wherever God led them, sailing into the white morning of the distant horizon without map and without plan, relying on God to lead them where he would. White martyrs were those who discovered the will of God as they trusted him through uncharted waters and into unmapped territories.

The spirit of discovery and an opennes to adventure leads us into God’s will. I know that approach doesn’t sit well with many if not most folks in today’s evangelical world because we want everything to be nailed down, direct, prosaic, rational and reasonable. But if our hearts are hungry for the wonder and passion of a life abandoned to God’s will, I don’t know of another way to do it.

Just ask Caleb. Or Columba. Or that young man dealing with cancer.