Lesson 1: You can depend on God’s love---1.2 Failure of the Backup Plan

My backup plan was being good.  God might love me just because I was a part of the mass of humanity but He would love me a lot more if I were good.  I defined good in a negative sense.  I was good because of all the things I didn't do.  I didn't smoke, drink, do drugs or run around with fast boys.  By this definition, I was looking pretty good, especially when compared to my older sister who did at least a couple of the above.   

I thought God graded on a curve. Since I was outwardly “better” than so many people around me, I figured I was well on my way to earning God's love and acceptance.  How wrong I was.  God doesn't care about externals but looks at the heart.  My heart was not a pretty sight.  For example, I was a world champion grudge holder.  I can remember in high school lying in bed at night thinking about all the people who had hurt me.  The more I thought about them, the more I hated them.   

At college, I met my first love in geology class.  Jay was a senior.  He was smart, good looking and the assistant Duke Blue Devil. I thought he hung the moon.  I was crazy about him until he dumped me like a hot potato.  Then he rose to the top of my hit list.  I was too civilized to kill him, so I simply pretended he didn’t exist.  I saw him three times a week in class. We took geology field trips together.  But I never spoke to him and never looked at him except with pure contempt.  My ugly heart was peeking through my good girl veneer. 

On the rebound from Jay, I met a new guy. He pressured me to do things I'd always taken pride in not doing.   So even my good-girl façade was in danger of crumbling.  On Good Friday, my new boyfriend, Bill and I went to see The Godfather.  During the pivotal scene, Michael Corleone is in church making vows to become the godfather to his sister's baby.  While the priest asks Michael if he believes in God the Father, Jesus Christ and the Holy Ghost, the film keeps cutting to scenes of the Corleone family assassinating their rivals on Michael's orders.  He knows all the right answers, but his heart is full of hate.  At the end of the movie, I was crying uncontrollably.  When Bill asked me why I blurted out “I don't know if I believe in God anymore.”  My confession shocked me.  I had always been religious and never doubted God's existence.   I saw myself in Michael Corleone, and I hated what I saw.  Just like Michael, I knew all the right answers, and my heart was full of hate.  The difference was only a matter of degrees.  Michael and I were both hypocrites, not true believers. 

I went to church on Easter Sunday, but I was just going through the motions of worship.  The next day I ran into my good friend, Bev, who was on her way to a Bible study.  Bev's destination intrigued me.  I had never heard of people who studied the Bible outside of a church.  With my declaration of doubt fresh in my mind, I was eager to meet people who must genuinely believe, so I invited myself to the study.  The women I met there talked about having a personal relationship with Jesus Christ.  Suzie, the group leader, said that on Easter morning she and her boyfriend had gone for a walk and prayed together.  Pray!  That was the last thing my boyfriend would ever do with me.  Suzie gave me a booklet that explained the difference between knowing about God and truly knowing him.   

I took the book back to the dorm and read it while taking a bath (lest my roommate think I was a Jesus Freak).  One Bible quote hit me right between the eyes, “For it is by grace you are saved through faith; and that not of yourselves, it is the gift of God so that no one may boast.” (Ephesians 2:8-9, NASB) Faith was the key.  I knew I didn't have it.  I didn't know how to get it.   

A couple of weeks later, I had reached an all-time low point.  It was Joe College Weekend the biggest event of the Spring semester.  Bill had taken off to the beach with his buddies leaving me without a date.  I spent the weekend sitting in my dorm room feeling sorry for myself.  On Sunday I decided to get out and visit a local church Suzie and Bev had recommended.  I could sense a difference in this congregation.  There was a spirit of love in those people that permeated the church building.  When the pastor invited us to kneel in prayer, I knew I wanted what they had.  Still full of doubts, I asked Jesus to come into my life and change it with His love.  And amazingly He did.  It wasn't because I was such a good person because I wasn't.  It wasn't because I had such great faith because I didn't.  It was, as that Bible quote said, a gift from God.  Freely given. No strings attached.  Even the faith to believe that He meant this gift for me was not something I had to work up.  God gave me faith when I truly wanted and needed it. 

Learning the Lesson 

Have you realized that your backup plan is doomed to failure?  Are you ready to quit trying to impress God with what you can do and start trusting in what God has done for you through His Son, Jesus Christ?  If so reach out and take the gift of God's love and forgiveness that He is so eagerly waiting to give you.  Tell God that you are tired of living life your way and are ready for Him to give you a whole new life.  You can express yourself to God by talking to Him in a simple prayer like this: 

Dear Jesus:  I need you.  I know that I have sinned: messed up my life by running it my way instead of Your way.  Thank You for dying on the cross to take away my sin that has been a barrier between us.   I give my life to You, my rescuer and ruler.  Come into my life by Your Spirit and change me from the inside out.  Thank You for giving me love, forgiveness, and life without end.  

Lesson 1: You can depend on God’s love---1.1 View from the Top

I can remember my first ski trip like it was yesterday.  Never having been much of an athlete, learning to ski was a big challenge.  (In fact, the only organized sports team I'd ever been on was a girls' softball team: “Colleen’s Klutzes,” an aptly named squad). I had moved to Colorado a couple of months before to work with a Christian campus ministry.   Over Thanksgiving weekend, I joined a group of single staff members from our organization at Breckenridge ski resort. Normally, I would be the person who opts to sit by the fire drinking hot chocolate all afternoon.  But in this work environment, not skiing was never an option.  Everybody skied.  Everybody loved it.  You will love it too!  So reluctantly I decided to give it a try. 

After the first day of skiing, I felt like I was more than up to the challenge.  Maybe I'm not a klutz.  Skiing isn't so hard.  Winter Olympics here I come.  Look out, Jean-Claude Kiley.  Leslie, the other novice in the group, and I had spent the day taking a lesson then practicing on the bunny slope.  We had a fun time and looked pretty spiffy in our new ski clothes. 

Unfortunately, my gentle introduction to navigating the snow didn't last.  Leslie had to go home early, and the next day I would be bunny hopping by myself.  That hot chocolate was sounding pretty good about now.  But I let the peer pressure get to me.  “You don't want to miss out on all the fun.”  "I'm sure you've learned enough to tackle the beginner slope; it's not so hard."  One of the guys, Tom (name changed to protect the guilty) promised to ride up with me on the ski lift and accompany me down the beginner's slope.  With this ski veteran at my side, I was willing to brave the unknown. 

I managed to get on and off the lift without mishap (an amazing feat considering I had two six-foot planks strapped to my boots.)  As we skied on the trail, I thought: “This is the life: sun, snow, the smell of pine trees.”  That reverie lasted for about two minutes.  Then we reached the top of the slope.  This was the beginner's slope?  The beginning of what? Suicide?  It dawned on me we were in the Rocky Mountains.  And this was the rockiest, most mountainous terrain this little girl from the Midwestern prairie had ever faced.  Then I remembered I had an expert at my side so maybe I wouldn't die. 

Just then Tom spotted one of our group about a third of the way down the slope.  “Hey, Connie,” he yelled loud enough to cause an avalanche. “Why don't you ski down with Leecy. I'm going on the black diamond hill with the rest of the guys.” And with that, he vanished.  I couldn't believe it!  He lured me up the mountain with promises of companionship and aid.  Then he abandoned me.  I faced the mountain alone. 

Now I apparently survived and with the help of Connie learned to ski.  I even went on to ski again and loved it.  But what I never did again was trust Tom.  He had given his word and taken it back.  I had depended on him, and he had proven unreliable. 

Tom was a nice guy, but he was human.  Humans are a notoriously undependable bunch.  Everyone knows the pain of broken promises, of abandonment by family, friends, and lovers.  And each of us has been disloyal to those we care about.  That's just the way we are. 

God made people in his image, and we have returned the favor.  We imagined that God thinks and acts just like us.    God insists, “My thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways My ways.” (Isaiah 55:8, NIV), yet I still think God will let me down the way people do.  Even though while growing up I was taught all the “right answers” about God, I had my doubts.  Was God going to take me up to the top of a mountain and just leave me there?  Would I have to face the Rocky Mountains of life alone?  He promised to love me.  He promised to be with me.  He promised to watch out for me.  But did He mean it?  Could I rely on His love?  I decided to believe in a God of love but have a backup plan just in case. 

Learning the Lesson 

Take some time to ask yourself the following questions:  

Do I judge God by human standards? 

How have disappointments and betrayals by friends and family colored my view of God’s faithfulness? 

Do I depend on God’s love or do I have my own backup plan?