On Obedience 

Three years ago, I quit alcohol. 

More precisely, three years ago I finally put aside a significant part of my rebellious nature and turned to obedience to God. 

God had been nudging me in many ways to turn to Him instead of anywhere else when I needed to process difficulty in my life. It was the Apple Watch notification of a possible A-Fib event that was the divine smack across the face that I needed. 

But I’ve discussed this before in this blog. On this third anniversary, I want to focus on obedience. 

A Rebel, A Non-Conformist 

As I navigated my teenage years, I was not one to obey rules, at least those that I didn’t like. This manifested itself most often in my scant high school attendance. I didn’t see the need to go to class, and so I just pulled an “Office Space” more than a decade before that movie came out: I cut whenever I didn’t feel like going. Somehow, I still managed to graduate in four years. 

Eventually I got my act together during the year I took off between high school and college. During that time, I learned the need to obey if I wanted to make something out of my life or at least prove to those who thought I wouldn’t amount to anything that they were wrong. 

But little of this has to do with my obeying God. 

I started to walk down that path earlier in my high school experience by acting on what I would later recognize as a God-request, that I seek Him. The only way I knew how to do that was to contact a Catholic church, since Catholicism was what I had been exposed to, somewhat. 

Catholicism requires obedience. Miss one of the rules and you had to rectify with the Sacrament of Confession. Perhaps it is a way to put structure around the need to obey God, but over time I viewed it more about obeying the Catholic Church, and not necessarily God. 

The Early Adult Years 

By the time I started college my rebelliousness, at least to secular rules, had diminished. I conformed as necessary to move towards success in whatever secular endeavor I was involved with to include classes, part-time jobs, pledging a fraternity (lots of rules there), and Air Force basic training (even more rules there). 

One example was a call for auditions for a play produced by a budding director student in the drama department. I had not completed my homework for a particular class. The audition was during class time and therefore provided the needed alibi. Perhaps I did not obey the assignment, but I obeyed the process to produce a favored outcome. 

Later came a defining moment in my growth. I was a reservist in the US Air Force while still in college. Our unit was activated for what was then called Operation Desert Shield. As a college student, I had the option to defer. Several in a similar situation on my unit did. For me, though, I had made a promise. Asking for a deferment was never an option for me. It was about character and honor. 

I had learned obedience, at least in the secular world. 

Physically Mature, Spiritually Lacking 

While I was a man in the legal and biological senses, spiritually I was an infant. My relationship with God was limited to Sunday Mass and Days of Obligation, with occasional visits to the confessional thrown in. I was what I would consider a good Catholic, I followed the rules, and yet somehow never feeling, nor desiring, a connection with God. 

In fact, I had a defiant attitude towards Him that showed itself vividly one evening during a dark period of my life. I skidded on ice and slammed my Toyota Corolla into a curb, causing some damage, but the car was still drivable. I called out to God, not for help but in open defiance, challenging Him to give me more, as I could handle it. I was quite angry at God. A seemingly good Samaritan appeared offering to help me out, but that was a deception. The help was to leave the rough neighborhood unharmed if I handed over my money. 

Why should I have expected anything else? Not only was I not seeking God, but I also openly defied Him. 

In retrospect, some of the darker moments of my life occurred because of blatant disobedience, caught in the temptations and expectations of this world. I am not making excuses, just relating to the deceptions that I could not see then from the inside, but which are clear when viewed now from the outside. 

I eventually continued my quest for Him, but still through the Catholic Church. I obeyed and did what I was supposed to do. When my first marriage ended, I sought and was granted an Annulment from the Church for us. I continued to attend Mass on Sundays when it was convenient for me, and went to confession to make my soul clean again for when I didn’t. 

But I did not have a true relationship with God, until I hit another dark, low point many years later. 

Surrender at the Tree 

I think we go through waves of high and low times in life; certainly, looking back over mine, that seems to be the case. Sometimes those lows are deep, where everything that anchored you to reality, to yourself, seemed to lose the rock steadiness you depended on. I hit such a point in 2008. 

I felt like my life was a failure, and I didn’t understand why. I knelt beside a maple tree I had planted on my mini farm and cried out to God. I unloaded, not in anger but in despair. I had done everything right, I had thought. I was a good person. I had lost my relationship, slowly, with the Catholic Church due to disillusionment and emptiness, but I still prayed. 

I was completely drained, spiritually. 

I surrendered. 

At that moment I heard the voice of God. 

“One way or the other, everything will be all right.” 

To be clear, I have had many God-nudges when I knew He was speaking to me. Starting my business was one of those instances that I often talk about. But this was different. While I didn’t physically hear the words, the clarity of the message was unmistakable. 

For the first time in my life, I had truly reached out to God. I finally obeyed Scripture (see Jeremiah 33:3, Matthew 7:7), though I didn’t realize it at the time, as I had not sought to truly learn and understand the character of God before that. 

A Fifteen-Year Journey 

In hindsight, that was a pivotal moment in my faith-walk and the beginning of a fifteen-year journey that culminated with the removal of alcohol from my life. I learned to seek God. I began attending an interdenominational church that preached about a personal relationship with Jesus. With each sermon, I found myself slowly starting to learn more. 

But I kept a segment to myself and away from God. In retrospect, I think it was because spiritual maturation and refinement are processes that need time. God provides grace for gradual restoration, but ultimately, we must decide to act. 

As I have mentioned before in this blog, I have used alcohol to dull the pain of events in life, present and past. It was my “decompress” crutch, and it worked very well, until it didn’t. Keeping problems from God is contrary to seeking God. Eventually God led me to where I had to make the decision, in dramatic fashion. I have mentioned the A-Fib trigger (alert on Apple Watch, the only one I ever received before or since), but there was a dream before that. 

The dream was simple, yet terrifying. I was submerged up to my waist in a vat of bright red stuff, a goo of sorts. I knew that if I let the vat consume me, that I would die and be forever separated from God. I struggled mightily in that dream to free myself from the red goo. I believe if I hadn’t, I would have died that night and would be forever separated from God because of my disobedience. 

Not long later, I found myself reaching out to God on the banks of the Ohio River one morning during a business trip. I had completed my client obligations the day before and enjoyed a few beers with dinner (and after). I did not feel well, but I wouldn’t describe it as a hangover. Instead, I was disgusted with myself. I wanted to change. I wanted to turn fully to Him during all times. I wanted to live the life He planned for me, completely. I asked for help. The A-Fib alert that followed shortly after was that help I needed to make the final push. 

Christianity Light 

I read somewhere that of those who profess themselves to be Christian, only 15% or so are saved, because they haven’t truly given their life to Christ. That saddens me because it is reflective of the spiritual battle and resulting deceptions that seem to be increasingly common today. 

Before I wholly gave of myself and removed alcohol, I don’t know if I could say convincingly that I was in the 15%. At the time I’m sure I would have; I believed I was saved and I had professed my faith publicly through adult baptism in 2014. Salvation gained cannot be lost, only refused, but was I refusing salvation by not fully always giving of myself to God? Deception would have informed me to relax; all is well. 

But was that an outcome of spiritual warfare? That I had done just enough to secure salvation, and nothing else mattered? The past seven or so years have seen a dramatic increase in this warfare worldwide, in my opinion. Self-professed Christians are turning away from Scripture where convenient, reshaping God in the image they prefer. If you don’t see this, may I submit that you’re not paying attention.  

In my opinion, this is rooted in a lack of obedience, which itself stems from the disturbing trend towards what I describe as “Christianity Light,” which takes the comfortable parts of the faith, the loving, caring God, and tosses aside parts of what God commands for convenience. Obedience is not a means to salvation, but is what is expected of those who truly know, trust, follow, and love God (see John 14:15, 1 John 5:2-3). 

In other words, if we truly know and love God, we 1) stay opened and in tune for opportunities to obey Him and 2) will act when commanded. This is perfectly described in Isaiah 6:8 (NASB 1995): 

Then I heard the voice of the Lord, saying ‘Whom shall I send, and who will go for Us?’ Then I said, ‘Hear am I. Send me!’ 

Send Me 

I never again want to be unprepared to respond, “Send me.” Therefore, I will not knowingly participate in activities that take me away from Him.  

As a Christ follower, I am called to be ready to be sent, and to seek out opportunities to be sent. If I truly love God, I don’t want anything getting in the way of that, ever. I want Him to use me to further His kingdom. In other words, obedience is not out of obligation but rather love. 

The problem is that deceptions abound constantly. It is easy to become distracted without knowledge. Alcohol was one such distraction for me. We need to encourage our fellow brothers and sisters in Christ to actively and continuously be on the alert for such. The spiritual warfare is real and will not relent.  

We should always be aware of opportunities to be sent. 

Send me, Lord. I am here, I am prepared, and I am ready.