When God Doesn't Tell You No Nothing

Years ago, as a result of what I now identify as a moment of temporary insanity, Stan and I came up with the brilliant idea to get our boys, then three and seven, a dog.  Looking back, we had extremely idealistic, even romantic, visions of our boys learning great responsibility and working together as they willingly took on the responsibility of feeding, walking, loving, and bonding with the little cherub of a pet that would come into our home as the fifth member of the Wilson Household.

So along came Baxter, an Australian Shepherd mix.  Although his arrival brought great excitement, especially from our boys, it didn't even take me two weeks to be convinced that this dog had been sent to us directly from Satan himself, straight from the pit of hell.  Seriously, I'm not exaggerating in any way, shape or form.  He was horrible! But I guess  that's another story for another time.

Just a few days into living life with this "blessed" new addition, one evening during a ride home from church, Stan decided to begin a conversation with our seven year old Adam, in hopes of beginning a lesson in responsibility when it came to Baxter.  "Adam, you know you can could collect soda cans from the soda we drink, as well as cans from the neighbors, to earn money. Then with the money you earn, you could buy Baxter some toys that he might like to play with."  I remember thinking, this is a brilliant idea!  Way to teach our boys some responsibility, Stan, my man!

Although I can't remember exactly what Adam said next, I know that his response was positive, as this entrepreneurial possibility greatly excited him. He was ready to buy he and his brother's new companion some fun new toys with the money he was going to earn.  A new business was being birthed right before our eyes.

However, the immediate event that followed was something we didn't expect.  You know when you feel extreme tension in your midst, like a hurricane of gigantic proportions is about to hit?  Well, that's exactly what happened in the Wilson car at that moment.   Immediate stress permeated the car. There was a moment of dead silence...then a loud, "Humph!"...followed by my three year old, Zach's explosive, angry statement, "Daddy!!!!  You didn't tell me no nothing!!!!" He was furious! 

You see, Zach had decided that his dad had intentionally left him out, excluding him from this new venture.  In his eyes, Stan had offered his older brother guidance, encouragement and great ideas, but hadn't offered him anything. Nada.  Nothing. He was devastated. His brother had received a priceless gift, while he had remained penniless. He decided he had been rejected. 

Recalling this event makes me have to ask...if we're really honest, isn't this what we all potentially experience when it comes to feeling left out when others receive God's blessings? When those around us - spouses, family members, or friends, receive precious words, encouragement, direction from our Heavenly Father - do we not tend to measure what we have or have not received?  If we didn't receive something that we believe is of equal value, we believe that we have been left out...rejected even. We believe we're getting short-changed and dismissed.

During these times, we tend to behave like orphans, not fully connecting with our Heavenly Father who has taken us as His own, but rather sitting on the sidelines, failing to engage in the Father-Child relationship that has been given to us.  I know...I've been there...way too many times...secretly wondering why God was speaking to everyone but me.  Asking the question, "Why don't you tell me something, God? I need to hear from you too.  Why don't You tell me no nothing!!" 

As I've sought to deepen my relationship with Christ, as well as my ability to hear Him better, one of my very favorite scriptures has become Romans 8:15: "The Spirit you received does not make you slaves, so that you live in fear again; rather, the Spirit you received brought about your adoption to sonship. And by him we cry, "Abba, Father."

You see, the problem isn't that God isn't speaking to us, but rather that we're not fully engaged in the Father-Child relationship which enables us to intimately cry out "Abba, Father!", making our requests known to Him...expectantly awaiting His answers, whether it's through His Word, nature, conversations with friends, dreams, or a direct, gentle whisper. 

Over the past few years, I've identified that there are two types of Believers - those who behave as orphans, waiting for any scrap of food that can come their way; or those who behave as sons and daughters, knowing they can go to their Daddy at any time, about absolutely any thing, knowing He will hear, answer, and provide. Too often, we behave as the former, living as slaves to fear and rejection, rather than children of God. We forfeit our direct access to our Father, our Daddy.  In contrast, when we live as His sons and daughters, we are convinced that all the Father has, belongs to us personally. We are confident and take possession of all He has given us. 

If we're still living as orphans, it's time to put away our orphan clothes, ideals, behaviors and struggles, and fully embrace the position that has been given us through relationship with Jesus Christ.  Furthermore, we need to fully and confidently take on the position of His children - that we have been adopted into His Family and given His inheritance. It's time to live as His children, my friends.  It truly is.

He's speaking to you, and He's speaking to me - every single day.  He's speaking through His Word - but we can only hear Him when we're in it daily. He's speaking to us through the majesty of nature that surrounds us - if we take the time to look.  He's whispering His love, truth, correction and direction - when we stop long enough to listen.  And He's loving us through our brothers and sisters in the faith - as His powerful force flows in and through each of us.

He's here and we're His.  We can make the decision to fully transition from orphan to child - listening, hearing, receiving and loving.  We're no longer orphans, we're His family.

I pray this blog has blessed you.  Thank you for reading, sharing and subscribing!

Much love (as always),

Cammie