green eyes

I received this devotional from Elisabeth Elliot last week:

Although of course we lead normal human lives, the battle we are fighting is on the spiritual level. The very weapons we use are not those of human warfare but powerful in God's warfare for the destruction of the enemy's strongholds. Our battle is to bring down every deceptive fantasy....We fight to capture every thought until it acknowledges the authority of Christ" (2 Cor 10:4-6 JBP).

As I was praying this morning these words were in my mind. There were other things in my mind as well, things which had certainly not acknowledged the authority of Christ. I had been praying for months: Lord, have mercy on So-and-So. There was evidence that He was answering that prayer, and, far from being thankful for that, I found in my heart Jonah's anger. Why should God be merciful to the people of Nineveh or to this person? They didn't deserve it!
Right then and there the spiritual battle was drawn. Whose side was I on anyway? Everything that was opposed to God and his purposes had to be surrendered. I had been trying to explain to God why my own feelings ought to be considered, why his were all wrong. That, too, had to be captured, made to acknowledge Christ's authority. A surrendered mind is not one which is no longer in operation. It is, rather, a mind freed from rebellion and opposition. To be Christ's captive is to be perfectly free.

There is not much I can add to this except my own experience. I, too, have prayed for God's provision for someone I know, and have found myself envious and angry, like Jonah, I guess, when God has blessed this person in ways I don't think she deserves. Yes, I wanted some kind of provision made here, but I thought she should sweat a little more to make things work out. I thought she should suffer a little longer in order to humble her and improve her attitude (look who's talking. . . ). Then (and only then) should God have met her needs. I know people a lot more worthy than she is who have worked hard and prayed hard and never received what she has. God has been entirely too gracious here. She will never learn to be truly grateful if she gets what she wants this easily.

So there, in case you didn't notice, is the difference between God and me; the striking similarity between Jonah and me. I would rather sulk (in the shade, of course), than rejoice over God's unmerited favor shown to this (unworthy) person. It's not a pretty sentiment, but it's mine, so I might as well own it.

God's ways are not our ways, his thoughts are not our thoughts. He delights in showing mercy and lovingkindness. Too often I delight in seeing other people get what (I think) they deserve, though I would like a little mercy for myself, thank you. I am every bit as petty as the three five and six year olds who live in my house right now.

So I must "fight to capture every thought until it acknowledges the authority of Christ." I want to agree that His will is best, His plan is perfect, He knows what He is doing. If God chooses to be gracious to (other) undeserving people, I need to rejoice in His ways which are past finding out. I need to stifle, smother, squelch and suppress any jealous or envious thought which challenges His goodness or champions my own.

It puts me in mind of a familiar prayer: Thy will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven, whether I like it or not.