When it is Wrong to Want to Know God’s Will

I just came across a little something I wrote nearly three years ago. I've revisited this topic many times since in passing conversations, but had somehow forgotten that I had once written about it. As I am short of current posts this fall, and as I am still trying to live out the lessons stated here, I thought it was worth sharing now. 

When it is Wrong to Want to Know God’s Will
28 December 2008

There is a perpetual struggle amongst Christians to relinquish control to our Creator, to allow him to guide us daily in the path of his own choosing, according to his own will. Never mind that the path is also one according to his own goodness; we simply would rather have the freedom to choose a lesser path – and routinely do.

But there comes a time in many of our lives when, having ventured out on a path of our own choosing and found a dead end or a stain-darkened alley one too many times, we reach a point of desperation. Now it has come: Now (finally) I am willing to submit to your will, Lord. Bring it on! Just show me what you want me to do. Now that I’ve exhausted my ideas, I’ll give your way a try.

I recently reached such a point in my life. I finally had to admit that my little version of reality was in fact a swiftly fading daydream. The path before me was slipping away beneath my feet, and I was grasping for a handhold. After months of feeling assured that God was clearly leading me to a specific destination, I had begun to feel thwarted at each attempt to move forward on my journey. It seemed as if God had changed his mind, as if he had erased the route completely and hadn’t bothered to draw up a new one.

At that point I wandered for an extended period in a barren land, aimless and without purpose. I grieved the loss of my unrealized dreams, I attempted to create new dreams to replace the old, I occasionally gave myself over to the despair of imagining the status quo stretching out forever without a hope for change. I begged God, I ignored God, I accused him – of teasing, testing, torturing me. I felt that life as I was living it was hardly worth living at all, and I sank deeper into the paralyzing mire of despair and self-pity.

It was at this point that I finally became willing to do God’s will – whatever it was. All I needed to know was what it was. The unknowing, the limbo was killing me. I needed specifics: who, what, where, when, why. I was in a place of total submission (or so it seemed to me at the time), humbly desiring to receive my orders. Just tell me your will, Lord, and I will do it. I’m ready. You’ve stripped me down to the barest humility, and I admit your way is best. Now fill me in!

And then I read two little verses in Isaiah that threw me for a loop: “Woe to those who draw sin along with cords of deceit, and wickedness as with cart ropes, to those who say, "Let God hurry, let him hasten his work so we may see it. Let it approach, let the plan of the Holy One of Israel come, so we may know it." (Isaiah 5:18-19)

Woe to those who desire to know God’s plan? Why would the prophet bemoan those who sought to know God’s will? Isn’t that what the Christian life is all about, to know and do the will of God? How could that be wrong?I was completely perplexed. I didn’t understand the passage, but I knew that God had brought it to my attention for a reason.

What God and friends and time eventually revealed to me was that the problem was not in the knowing itself, but in the motives behind the knowing: Tell me what you want so I don’t have to keep trusting you in the darkness of unknowing. The issue is about control. Trusting in the midst of darkness is incredibly uncomfortable – I can’t take even a single step without guidance lest I lose my way, or knock my head on a low-hanging branch, or fall down a rabbit-hole. I must hold out my hand for guidance every single inch of the way.

But if I could know – could see – the path! Then I could really go somewhere, then I could really make progress. I might even find a handy shortcut, or a more scenic route to the same destination. Then I could withdraw my hand and take control once again.

And that is the woe, that in the seeking to know his will we sometimes are in fact seeking a way to get out of trusting him – to be “free” of him and his constant “interference” in our lives. And it is a woe indeed, for we will have traded his providence for a freedom that is no freedom at all.

In the midst of my struggles, I realised that what God desires is a deeper, more intimate relationship with me. I didn’t need to know the specifics of God’s will after all. I could follow along in the darkness, inch by inch by inch, never seeing where it was I was headed, trusting that God would make my feet secure. In a sense, the unknowing, the limbo was killing me – killing my stubborn independence and self-reliance so that I would be forced to throw myself wholeheartedly into the arms of God – his mercy, wisdom and love. And that is true freedom.