GPBC Blog

“I think you can do it.” I had not heard those words from my mom before. With a pout and a bit of bewilderment, I sized up my situation. Before me was a buttered piece of French toast, loaded with maple syrup, ready for me to eat. The problem was it needed to be cut, and my mom had always done that for me. Being a logical thinker, I realized she was right. So, without further ado, I cut and ate. I was six years old. In a small way, I grew up that day.
 
Some children are fiercely independent, pushing away any potential helping hand. I was not one of those. Years later, after I had grown up a bit more, I had to admit there were times when I liked to be served. I want others to cut my toast. This doesn’t change the fact that I love to serve others.
 
My walk with Christ has been a bit like that. I struggle to “do the work.” Philippians 2:12 tells us to “work out your salvation with awe and reverence.” My growth requires my active participation. It also requires that I yield to the Teacher—through scriptural truths, the Holy Spirit, the wisdom of others, and so on—because, as verse 13 says, “it is God who works in you, both to will and to work for his good pleasure.”
 
That’s where I got hung up. I misinterpreted that as meaning God does all the work. God cuts my French toast after I butter it and pour on the syrup. I attend church, read Scripture, pray, maybe memorize Scripture for good measure, then God transforms me into a gracious, patient, loving person. Except it didn’t work that way. Impatience became anger; love was replaced by judgment.
 
At the same time, I had absorbed our American culture and my family upbringing, which taught self-reliance and self-sufficiency. When something needed to change, I looked to me without realizing it. That became muscle memory, my automatic go-to in all situations. Changing that muscle memory requires work, intention, concentration, and perseverance. At times I resist it; I battle resignation daily.
 
Currently, my work has been to create a new muscle memory of yielding earlier. For me, that has meant understanding at a deeper level the one I am yielding to. Is he trustworthy? Will he provide and protect? I want to be able to yield when I sense a nudge to turn to the left, to the right, to do this or not do that. Verse 13 indicates that the goal is to do what pleases God. The result is that it then becomes my joy to have been used by God in the life of another—to see God work immeasurably more than I could ask or imagine.
 
These days, I don’t eat as much French toast as I used to; too many carbs. But I still recognize that six-year-old who would rather have someone else cut it for me. In the more consequential matters of life, I’m learning to notice when I’m waiting for God to do what he’s asked me to do—and when I’m trying to do it all without him. Working out my salvation means taking the next step, sometimes with trembling, while trusting that God is already at work in me, shaping both my desire and my ability to follow him.