We were shooting hoops on the basketball pad in our backyard. I was teaching my kids some of the finer points of shooting technique, hoping to pass on a bit of my experience. But it seemed like one of those days—they weren’t buying what I was selling.
Frustrated, I took the low road.
“Guys,” I began, “I played four years of varsity basketball. I was MVP at tournaments, our team won the zone banner every year, and we even snagged a bronze at provincials. I was recruited to play college basketball, and I have my Level 2 coaching certification!”
(Sounds impressive, right?)
Finally, they gave in. They started working on their technique the way I had shown them, reluctantly at first.
I just wanted them to trust me—to take the advice of someone wiser and more experienced. Yet, wouldn’t you know it, the next time their friends came over, I overheard them on the court: “Hey, did you know my mom played college basketball?”
Here’s the thing: I wasn’t trying to puff myself up—those qualifications are from more than 15 years ago! What I wanted was simple. I wanted them to listen, to trust me enough to try, even when it didn’t make sense or felt frustrating.
Isn’t that true in life too? Following instructions—especially when they don’t make sense—can be hard. We like to rely on our own ideas, our own ways of doing things. Sometimes, we don’t even believe there could be a better way.
The same struggle often applies to obeying God. His instructions don’t always make sense. They often run counter to our natural inclinations and push us to act in ways that feel completely opposite to what we’d rather do. When His commands clash with our desires, we hesitate, doubt, or resist.
Think about it:
God asks Noah to build a massive boat… in the middle of a desert.
He tells Joshua to lead the people in worship as they march around the walls of Jericho seven times.
He commands Jonah to preach repentance to the very enemies he despises in Nineveh.
The disciples follow Jesus to Lazarus, even though returning to that region nearly got Him killed.
And then there’s us:
God calls us to forgive the one who hurt us deeply.
He tells us to flee from sexual immorality, greed, and gossip—even as we try to rationalize it with a dozen excuses.
He urges us to pray without ceasing, even when the answers don’t come as we expect—or at all.
He admonishes us to plant His Word in our hearts, even when we find it hard to understand or struggle to make time.
He commands us to serve others, even when there’s no reward or recognition.
Obedience to God often requires us to set aside what feels comfortable, logical, or fair. It’s not easy—but He calls us to trust Him, even when it doesn’t make sense.
“If you love me, you will keep my commandments” (John 14:15).
To love the Lord is to know Him, for, as Jen Wilkin wisely says, “the heart cannot love what the mind does not know.” We come to know Him through His Word, where we see who He is and how He is working in the world to bring redemption. As we uncover these beautiful truths about His character, our awe and adoration grow.
When we’re reminded of His steadfast love and faithful presence, we can press on, trusting in His goodness and His purposes for us. It’s like getting into a car and trusting it will get us to our destination—why? Because it’s done so time and time again.
In the same way, God has been with us through seasons of confusion and difficulty, even when life hasn’t made sense. And when we’re uncertain about what He’s asking us to do now, we can be confident He will be with us again.
Because He has been faithful before, we can walk in obedience—even when it’s hard—trusting that His faithfulness will continue.
When obedience feels hard, we can find encouragement in the example of Christ: “And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross” (Phil. 2:8).
Our obedience may not lead to a literal cross, but it does require us to put to death our sinful nature. This is no small task. Every day, we are bombarded with selfish desires and plagued by hesitation and uncertainty in following Christ. Yet, our calling in Christ is the pursuit of godliness—a calling for which He equips and empowers us by His grace.
As we confess our weaknesses, fears, and stubbornness, we are reminded that His grace is sufficient for us, and His power is made perfect in our weakness (2 Cor. 12:9). Obedience is not a solitary effort but one sustained by His strength working through us.
“Blessed rather are those who hear the word of God and keep it!” (Luke 11:28). May we strive to live out that blessing, relying on His grace every step of the way.
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