Ask

So I've been working with this whole concept of dependence for a while now, coming to grips with the understanding that dependence is not failure  but is, in fact, God's goal for me.  Realizing all the obvious and not-so-obvious ways I try to avoid dependence (or, at the very least, the appearance of it) at all costs.  Seeking to understand what a life lived in dependence really looks like.

And lately this is the word that keeps popping up: Ask.

When my youngest son gets himself in a pickle that he isn't sure he can get out of on his own, his first instinct is to throw a frustrated fit.

"This isn't working!!  Stupid snowpants are all in a knot!!  I can't do this!"

If an all-out fit seems a little over the top, or just requires more energy that he has at the moment, he'll resort to whining.

"Whyyy do you maaake me wear snowpants?  I can't even get them ooooon.  Now I'm going to be late to schooooool."

And when he's feeling particularly snarky and smart, he'll pull out some sarcasm.

"Well, I guess you don't care if I'm late to school. [Dramatic pause.] Because I can't get these snowpants on when they're all in a knot."

(Yes, for those of you who were wondering, this is the moment when the smack is officially laid down.  Sarcasm in a 7-year-old is so unbecoming.)

This is something we've been working on with Liam--not just because sarcasm isn't to be tolerated and whining is so unpleasant and frustrated fits are, well, frustrating.  But because it's all so unnecessary--not to mention, ineffective.

And so, in the moments when I remember to be good, intentional mommy and not reactionary mommy, I try to stop him and say calmly,  "Hey Liam, how about instead of the fit, let's just try this: 'Hey mom, my snow pants are really tangled up this morning.  Could you help me untangle them so I can get them on and get to school on time?"  (Of course, for this to work I would need to be able to respond with a nice "Why, of course, dear -- I'll be right there" rather than the more typical "Hold on a minute, I'm cleaning up the breakfast dishes and scrounging for something to take to work for lunch and doing my hair and writing your brother's teacher a note.  And, by the way, if you would have hung them up like you were supposed to they wouldn't be in a knot in the first place!" But, alas, that's a blog post for another time.)

God often uses my relationship with my kids to teach me something about my relationship with Him, and it's usually in the middle of a lecture in which I'm teaching my kids some great truth that God gently taps me on the shoulder and quietly suggests I practice what I'm preaching.  (He really is so kind about it, usually.)  But that's not how it went this time.

For months I have been struggling to discern God's will for me in a couple of areas of my life: fretting and stewing and ignoring and burying and then fretting and stewing again.  I've thrown a frustrated fit or two.  I've been sarcastic and snarky.  But mostly I've just whined. "Whaaaat am I supposed to be doing about this?  How will I knoooow what God wants me doooo?"

Looking back now, I'm pretty sure God tried the quietly tapping me on the shoulder thing a few times, but I was busy not listening and missed it.  And then I think He tried that still, small voice thing He does so well, only it was really hard to hear him over all that whining.

So this week, he just pulled me aside and gave me a dose of my own medicine.  "Julie, honey, how about instead of the whining, let's just try this:

If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you. (James 1:5)

Well, ok then.  Just ask, you say.  Seems simple enough.

Except it isn't, is it?  Because asking for something shatters my facade of independence.  My good friend Erin Flater just wrote about this, that asking God for something puts us in a position of vulnerability.  When we ask Him for something, we are now dependent on Him to provide it.

Or not. 

And there it is.  God "gives generously...without finding fault."  I can trust Him to give me what I need.

BUT.

I need to ask.  I need to position myself in such a way that I am aware of my dependence on Him.  I need to trust that whatever He gives me is a generous gift.  It is enough.  It is more than enough.  

You do not have because you do not ask God.  James 4:2

When Liam is wrestling with his knotted-up snow pants (does this happen to anyone else -- or is it just us?), his frustration comes from wanting to be able to take care of it himself and finding himself unable to do that.  And so, what he really wants is for me to swoop in and rescue him without either of us having to acknowledge that he needed my help.    

Now that I get.

I want God to help me--to give me wisdom, to equip me for ministry, to make His path for me clear --but I'd really prefer if He could do that without blowing my little DIY self-illusion.

Apparently this is where God lays the smack down.  Because stiff-necked independence in His children is so unbecoming. 

Over and over in Scripture God says, "I will give you what you need.  Just ask.  Just acknowledge your need for me.  Just posture yourself to receive what I have for you."

In all your ways acknowledge Him, and He will direct your paths.  Proverbs 3:6

So, I'm going to give it a try.  For the next month, I'm going to be intentional about asking God a couple of specific questions.  I'm going to say out loud to you and Him and my own delusional little self that I am waiting on Him for the answers.  I am dependent on Him to do what He has promised. 

I'll let you know how it goes.