God's Will?

I'm starting to believe that anytime someone says "God told them they need to do *such and such*", what they are really saying is "I want to do this but I don't have a good reason, or I can't think of a reason, or I don't want to admit the true reason, so I'll say its from God." I speak for myself at least.

This has happened three times in my lifetime to me.

In high school, I was on a club basketball team. One night, I felt sure I heard God telling me I needed to quit the basketball team, or I would die that night in my sleep. I had a huge panic attack, because I had already committed myself to this team and I felt a loyalty to them that I would probably have to die to break. Whether or not this was reasonable is not the point. The point is, something told me I had to do this.

What I didn't say is that I had had a difficult season. I went through a slump. I was the oldest on the team, but too immature and awkward for a position of leadership, and was therefore ridiculed often. I didn't know what I was doing on the team, since I had made up my mind to go to UA far before I admitted it to myself. I had quit swimming. I was doing nothing except play basketball. Secretly, I wanted to quit, to leave the thing that was both giving my life purpose and making it miserable at the same time.

So, from somewhere came this thought, telling me I would die if I did not call my coach that instant and tell him I was quitting.

I never quit, and I never died. I did lose a night's sleep, and (I felt) a bit of my sanity. I don't know what would have happened if I had quit. I guess I never will.

Fast forward two years, and I had joined the UA Water Polo team. It was the beginning of my sophomore year, and I clearly felt "God" telling me to quit water polo, for some unknown reason that he would show me only after I quit. Or at least, that's how I perceived it. So after a few weeks of praying and hearing sermons on doing God's will and responding to that "inner voice" that is the Holy Spirit guiding you, and much less panic, I quit. However, I quit with every intention of going back the next semester if nothing spectacular happened. My coach wasn't happy, but I did it anyway. I made three great friends as a result of my extra time that made that semester enjoyable. Other than that, I had no spiritual epiphanies. Nothing spectacular happened. So, I played a bit that semester, then rejoined the next semester, and have been playing since (I'm now a senior).

What I'm not telling you is that I secretly felt the same feelings I had before burning out from swim team every time I went to water polo practice. The tedium of swim sets, the loneliness of being separated from the girls my age because of my swimming ability, the wish that I could be somewhere else, doing something else, with someone else.

So, from somewhere came this thought that if I didn't quit the Water Polo team, I wasn't a true Christian because I wasn't following what God was telling me to do. I would be unequally yoked with my boyfriend, who is a very committed Christian. I would become a carnal Christian who was good for nothing to God.

I quit and then went back. I'm still a Christian, even more mature than before. I don't know what would have happened if I didn't quit. I don't know what would have happened if I never went back. I guess I never will.

Fast forward another year. I'm sitting in Challenge on Tuesday Night, and all of a sudden, I clearly hear God telling me to break up with my boyfriend, whom I love very much, for some reason he would show me only after we broke up. I told my boyfriend after, and he reminded me of the above two scenarios, and of my imagination that tends to get carried away. I knew what he was saying, but it didn't get rid of the feeling. A year went by of prayer and listening to sermons telling me to do God's will even if it is hard, and to listen to that "inner voice" that is the Holy Spirit telling me what to do. And I finally did it. I broke up with him for a semester, with the full intention of getting back together with him. This was the third time we've separated in our relationship, but it was the biggest one too. Neither of us liked the situation, but I asked him to just bear with me as I sort this out. He did, understandably grudgingly. I appreciate his patience. We got back together, and our relationship is only stronger than it was.

What I didn't tell you are the feelings I had leading up to that point a year ago. I was worried about the potential of marrying the first guy I had ever dated. I was wondering if there was anything I wanted to do that I could do as a single woman but not as a married woman. I was wondering if he was really the man for me. I was wondering if I was simply staying out of habit with him, or if I really loved him. He didn't deserve for me to just "settle" for him. I was wondering whether I really do care about those two inches I have on him height-wise, or if it was society pressuring me into believing this. I had a lot of insecurities and fears that I was not acknowledging about this relationship.

So from somewhere came this thought that if I didn't break up with him, I was not following God's will, and therefore I would not be equally yoked with him anyway. It was a Catch-22: no matter where I turned, I would lose him, either in spirit or in "reality." He didn't deserve to be with someone who was not committed to God's will. So I finally did it, throwing a spiritual tantrum all the while.

We're back together, and our relationship is more mature than ever before. I'll never know what would have happened if I never broke up with him. I'll never know what would have happened if we never got back together.

What is the meaning of all this? Does God love to torture me out of doing the things I love, out of being with the people I love? Or was he simply trying to show me the things I wouldn't admit to myself? Was he stepping in and making me do what was necessary while I figured out the reasons things were not what I wanted them to be? Was he being the bad guy in my life for a while, something all parents must do from time to time to be good parents?

Or was it all just me using God as a smokescreen to hide my insecurities and fears? Was it all a selfish ploy?

I don't have a good answer. Its still really confusing to me. All I have are the things I have learned about myself, and the maturity that I have gained through the whole experience.

The things I have learned:
1. I am a fearful person.
2. I do many things for more selfish reasons than I'm willing to admit. I do things under a humble guise that I am actually doing for myself.
3. God knows best.
4. I will never understand God.
5. Stretching my perception of God is a good thing, not a bad one.
6. Finding someone to talk to about my insecure feelings is usually better than letting them fester. LET SOMEONE KNOW WHAT YOU'RE THINKING!!

Regarding 6, I think if I had known this before, I could have spared myself a lot of grief. I should have talked to my basketball coach about the insecurities and feelings of failure. I should have talked to my polo coach about my burnout and asked her what she recommended. I should have talked to Paul about these feelings I'd been having, or at least to someone with good relationship advice.

Surfacing your feelings is a good thing. It leads to clarity of mind, and, in my case, more clarity of God's will.

Most of God's will is in the Bible, especially using Jesus as an example to follow. I feel like most "revelations" like those I have had are simply a symptom of something that is quietly bubbling underneath the surface, that may erupt at any time is it is not taken care of. So perhaps, referring to my above analysis of the cause of my "revelations," all of the situations are true to some extent. Maybe God allowed me to use him as a smokescreen, as a crutch to give me time to analyze myself. Because he knows how I operate, he knows how to get me to think about my actions. So he stepped in and let me use him as a shield. He spoke to me through all those sermons, but he also spoke to me through my own actions. Perhaps this is what he was trying to teach me: that obedience is hard, that I am selfish, and that, most of all, he is willing to act strange to me to get me to learn and do what's right.

I'm probably not getting everything. But its a start.