Ministry,  Paradox

Getting Nudged When I Can’t Be Trusted With The Truth

Rod
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There’s a memorable scene in Avengers: Infinity War where Dr. Strange is floating in the air, a green ribbon of light swirling about him while his head is shifting about frantically in a trance like state. After several moments, the trance ends and Dr. Strange drops back to the ground and reenters reality among a group of other would be heroes awaiting an explanation.

  • Dr. Strange : I went forward in time… to view alternate futures. To see all the possible outcomes of the coming conflict.
  • Peter Quill : How many did you see?
  • Dr. Strange : Fourteen million six hundred and five.
  • Tony Stark : How many did we win?
  • Dr. Strange …One.

Against all human logic, reasoning, and wisdom, Dr. Strange does arguably the most asinine action, giving up the very thing staving off humanity’s destruction. Dr. Strange willingly gives the Time Stone to the ultimate antagonist Thanos, ensuring the Avengers defeat.

The movie ends with Thanos having all the infinity stones and with a single snap of his fingers, half of the world population turns to dust, including Dr. Strange. The audience, as well as all the remaining Avengers, are left with a profound feeling of loss, failure, and tragedy.

Fast forward to the next movie, Avengers: Endgame, all the way to the end. A moment comes when Dr. Strange looks at Tony Stark in the eye and holds up one finger, flashing back to the scene in the previous movie that out of over 14 million possibilities, there is only one way to win. It’s in that moment that the audience, as well as Tony Stark, realizes that Dr. Strange’s seeming betrayal was actually a step on the singular path for global victory. And the bigger point, is that if Dr. Strange had told Tony Stark about the only option to win, Tony would have never followed through. Tony could not be trusted with the information at the time when he thought he needed it most.

While I’ve never been involved in an intergalactic, all-of-humanity-at-risk conflict (yet), my mind is drawn to a situation many years ago where I thought I was smart enough, mature enough, and wise enough to be told the solution, but in reality I wasn’t.

I’m not a rancher. Neither is my dad, though he owns one and loves it immensely. One of his favorite joys is building fence while walking over rolling hills of his Nebraska Sandhills prairie. One afternoon, I was building a stretch of fence with my father that was maybe 1/2 a mile long or more. A fence must be straight, so getting all the posts in alignment is critical. Yet, due to the rolling terrain, we were unable to see from one end post to the other. With two hills between the end posts, my father and I each on a hill, we could see both the other person and the end post behind them. Both of us could align 3 of the 4 posts needed to make a straight line.

Think of a crooked line with four points; two end points and two spaced somewhere between. The points in the middle were my father and I. I knew where I was, could see him, and the post behind him. Likewise, he obviously knew where he was, could see me, and the other end post behind me. The strategy was for us to help line up the other person so that all four points were in perfect alignment. Dad had this ridiculous method, complete with silly hand and arm gestures to direct me where I was supposed to go, which happened to be west. But he was wrong, and I knew it. I made sure he knew it and I argued with him. Without engaging in my muted tantrum, he simply kept directing me west. I was hot under my collar. I had devised a little method (without him looking) that clearly showed we needed to be going east. But he kept moving me west. West and west I walked. Further and further away from where I knew I was supposed to be. Then all of a sudden, we stopped. I looked over my post, over him, and he was exactly in line with the end post. He looked over his, over mine, and I was exactly in line with the end post behind me. We had made a perfectly straight line, and yet, I was about 50 yards west of where my supposedly perfect, but clearly incorrect line was.

I don’t know why that moment on a hot Nebraska afternoon has been seared into my memory. But I’ve reflected on it often. The take away I keep coming back to was that dad never once explained his method to me. He just kept nudging me in the direction I was supposed to go. I used to get irritated that Dad didn’t try to explain his reasoning, because gosh darn-it, I’m like smart and stuff.

The reality was, I wouldn’t have listened. I turned off my ears to actually listen because I was too convinced he didn’t know what he was doing. If you’ve followed any of the Avenger’s movies you know Tony Stark wasn’t about to let anyone tell him what to do. He was the smartest guy in every room he entered. And while his character was based on his extreme brilliance, the truth was, Dr. Strange knew Tony couldn’t be trusted with the truth.

My family is in a season of trusting God in immeasurable ways. Somedays it feels as if we have no direction and are left to figure it all out on our own. There is no doubt God can make everything easier for us by simply wiggling his pinky toe, yet He apparently hasn’t. The point is not God’s ability for solving the problem, it is His reason for not doing so. He is not punishing us. He is not distant. But at the moment, He is silent, while gently nudging us in a direction often feeling counter intuitive from my standpoint.

I’m slowly realizing that, as smart as I am, and as strong as I think my faith is, the uncomfortable reality is that if I was really as smart, wise, or faithful as my mind believes, God would’ve trusted me with the reasons for his apparent inaction. Since He hasn’t shared his wisdom, the problem is my lack of faith and responsibility, not His withholding action or explanation.

God is so much more than some guy with green light and the ability to see the potential future. God is both in the future and ever present with my family now. Nothing is beyond His control, power, or dominion. God’s ways are not my ways, but His ways are always good, right, and purposeful. While I find myself in the season of wondering why God isn’t explaining his reasoning, I guess the best course of action is to just watch, take the small steps in the direction I’ve been given, and trust the paths will be made straight.

“For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, says the LORD. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your thoughts.” Isaiah 55:8-9

Rod is the ring-leader of adventure for this crew of ours. When he knows where God is leading he dives in heart first, eager to see the kingdom come. As a missionary with ZOE International, Rod is committed to the fight against child trafficking by serving God's children and establishing heaven on earth in this small corner.

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