I was in Toronto, rushing through immigration to catch a plane back home to Philadelphia. I got to the other side of the border in time, only to realize that I had left my phone in the rental car that I had returned just a few moments earlier. I started to go back for it and realized that I couldn't go back across the border. I was frustrated, but I thought there was still some hope.
I managed to get hold of the rental car agency and told them what had happened, identifying my account number and rental car. They told me that I was mistaken - nothing had been left in the car. My plane was about to take off, so I just needed to forget about it and move in.
On the plane, I immediately bowed my head and thanked the Lord for his sovereignty, this trial, and the sanctification that would result...If you believe that, I have a heavily populated island in New York that I'd like to sell you! Or, if that would be your reaction, you're at a level of spiritual maturity that I will never reach.
I was so frustrated. I wanted to blame someone, anyone. "It was the rental car guy's fault," I reasoned. "If he hadn't told me to disconnect the GPS, I wouldn't have become distracted and I wouldn't have forgotten my phone!" What was I going to do for the next couple days? How would I keep track of my schedule, check my e-mail, and connect with people while I'm on the go all the time?
My Struggle
Telling this story really is quite embarrassing. It's not that hard these days to replace a phone, or to at least temporarily use another device to provide me with the information I need. The phone is more of a convenience and preference for me.
But more importantly, it's embarrassing because I teach and write all the time about the security and rest that can be found in the sovereignty of God. I tell people all the time that God will take them where they don't want to go in order to produce in them what they couldn't achieve on their own. I teach again and again that God is much more committed to our holiness than he is to delivering our personal definition of happiness.
But that day, and even as I write this Article, I had to face the fact once again that I don't want God to be sovereign. I want to be sovereign. There are moments when I don't want to be made holy. I would much rather have life be predictable and comfortable, thank you. I don't want to experience the hardships of uncomfortable grace even though I know I still need to grow and change.
Once again, I have to confess to the idolatry that's behind my anger. I have to confess how much I worship at the altars of comfort and control. And I have to pray that someday, by God's powerful and patient grace, that I will be on the other side of the border where I treasure God's work of grace inside of me more than I treasure the ease of the world outside of me.
I'm not there yet, but I'm closer than I was last year. How about you?
