When God’s Answer is No
Easter may seem like a distant memory already, since it was 5 days ago and we pack so much into our days in the 21st century. But there’s a part of the Easter story that’s lingering with me. It’s the Garden of Gethsemane part.
Jesus was about to face the express purpose for which he came to this planet, and, basically, he was having second thoughts. He had previously volunteered to leave heaven to be born a helpless babe to an imperfect mother in a primitive time for a gruesome reason. The proposition was to squeeze Eternity into the burial clothes of human flesh and die a torturous death he didn’t deserve. It took some humbling of himself, but Jesus did it willingly according to Philippians 2:2-5.
And we know from Hebrews 2:2 that he endured the cross for the joy set before him, the joy being the reconciling to himself the crowning creation crafted in his image.
But in between the humbling of himself and the joy set before him there is this mess in the Garden of Gethsemane.
No one gets through this fallen life on Earth, or even the abundant life for that matter, without facing hard things. And even for Jesus it didn’t look pretty. He was sweating it out. He begged and pleaded for Plan B. It kept him awake that night.
But God ultimately answered his prayer with no. He does that sometimes, and it can be a real bummer. They’re not our favorite moments. We don’t tape them onto polka-dotted scrapbook pages for safekeeping or pin them longingly on Pinterest, swearing to ourselves we’ll never forget this inspiring moment.
But maybe we should scrapbook those moments when God tells us no. Maybe we should go to Gethsemane, and kneel. Plead brazenly for Plan B, and sweat God’s answer, and be brave and whisper anyway, “Not my will but yours,” and be shocked that we really mean it. And then sweat some more.
That way, when we face our Pilate, we will be uncannily empowered to keep our mouths shut; when we are mocked, we will feel only compassion; when we face temptation, we’ll be single-minded and bent on holiness; and when others marvel at how well we’re enduring our ordeal, we will invite them to paradise with us.
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t relish going to Gethsemane to do battle with God’s will. I’d much rather sleep through the uncomfortable realness of that excruciatingly hard-fought surrender like the three disciples did. I’d rather close my eyes to that awkward moment than stare down God’s will, unflinching until I finally blink.
But I can’t—because I know this: the well-rested but ill-prepared disciples fled the scene at the cross, and the sleep-deprived, battle-weary Jesus was victorious. Gethsemane is vital to victory. Don’t shy away from going there because it doesn’t look pin-worthy and you’re afraid of what that Gethsemane struggle might say about your faith.
Are you facing hardship? You may have heard it said, “Take it to the cross,” but might I suggest that you take it to Gethsemane instead?
“I can’t—because I know this: the well-rested but ill-prepared disciples fled the scene at the cross, and the sleep-deprived, battle-weary Jesus was victorious.” Bam! Right between the eyes…for me. Thank you for reminding me that the spiritual battle was won at Gethsemane before it was won at Calvary. What a great truth for being prayer – full. Thank you.
I have a hissy fit; it doesn’t work but, sometimes, I feel better.
You have not idea how much I needed to read this. You are right, sometimes God says no, and He knows best.
Thank you for your encouragement.
Bless you for sharing.