“It’s not fair!” I fumed, trapped in a room with two small kids, while Robert enjoyed fellowship and worship with others. It seemed I was always left to care for the children while he had all the fun.
It was 1974, and we were at a six-week orientation for new missionaries. But that evening, I didn’t have a missionary heart. Resentment grew as I put the children to bed and sat in the dorm room night after night, thinking of what I was missing down the hall.
I realized that I could hardly carry a tune and that Robert led singing in the impromptu worship services that closed the day. I knew he was fulfilling a need that I could never meet. I also knew he was where he needed to be. In fact, I was grateful he could do it.
But I felt left out. Unappreciated. Taken for granted.
Furthermore, I embraced those feelings. Fully.
In fact, like Jacob, I wrestled with God about the unfairness of it all. I questioned what it means for the man to be the head of the household, and what’s this bit about the wife being a helpmeet? After all, who’s going to help meet the wife’s needs? I wasn’t sure about the whole idea of submission.
But, God’s always right, and I knew it. I might not understand, but knew I wasn’t going to win. I finally declared, “God, I don’t like it, but you said to, so I’ll submit, but I submit to Robert only because I’m submitting to you.”
I made the declaration as I began my bath, resolved to be alone in my room, missing out on the fun. A sweetness filled the room as my heart was cleansed along with my body.
Before I rinsed the shampoo from my hair, Robert appeared, and he was concerned about me. “Let me stay with the kids. You go out and enjoy being with everybody else. It’s not fair for me to go every night while you stay cooped up in the room.”
I couldn’t go. By the time I got ready, the group would be breaking up. But I no longer needed to be freed from the prison of the room. I was already freed and filled with joy, I thanked Robert and encouraged him to rejoin the others.
He reluctantly returned to the group at my insistence.
Recently, the Lord brought this event to mind when I was talking with someone who struggled to trust God in a difficult situation. Like me, she wrestled with saying, “Yes, Lord,” when it was difficult to do what the Lord was asking of her.
Also, like me, once she chose to obey God, rather than fight, she was surrounded by His love and filled with joy, peace, and grace to follow Him.
When God’s way doesn’t make sense to us, we tend to resist and seek our own, but life is fuller and sweeter when we trust and obey.
Scripture tells us that if we trust Him rather than leaning on our own understanding, that He will direct us, make our paths straight, and abundantly bless us (Prov. 3:5-6, Deut. 28). I thought I learned that lesson the evening in the dorm room,
As I remembered that evening, I marveled at the freedom and joy that comes from releasing things to God and walking in His way. While writing, I also wondered why it’s so hard to make that a natural reaction in my life when inner struggles arise.
My writing was interrupted and I was confronted with a huge challenge. After great frustration and little headway, I took a much-needed break. Only then did it occur to me that I was wrestling in my own strength. I was also trusting my understanding—even though I knew I didn’t understand.
Suddenly, as I share what I learned in the past, I discover how little I’m applying the lesson to all of life. Nevertheless, one thing remains clear. Jesus doesn’t change.
He is still with us. Nothing is too difficult for Him, and He is faithful to care for us and our problems. The question is whether or not we will release our cares and concerns to Him.
We need to remember the words of Peter, “Humble yourselves under the mighty hand of God, that He may exalt you in due time, casting all your care upon Him, for He cares for you” (1 Pet. 5:6-7). His desire is that we be exalted over all our problems–whether they originate from within or from without.