when Jesus's way takes you through the unsafe neighborhoods

I almost gave up on prayer. Not because I stopped believing in its power, but because God had finally made it all very clear to me. He was not, in any way, shape or form, going to answer the prayer in the way I had specifically instructed him to. And not just once, did I give Him my plan. But often. Daily. For years. The same prayer, the same instructions, written out so clear and concise, a monkey could follow them. And despite all of my efforts, God still has not followed through with my plan. That must be the man part of Him. Not able to follow a woman’s directions.

But He is not just man. He is divine. And in His divinity, He hears, and He answers, in the best, most perfect, tailored for me, way, possible. At least that is what I continue to tell myself, because it can’t just be me, can it? Please tell me that I am not the only follower of Christ that stops every five feet and yells out, “you missed a turn, Jesus! I think we should have turned back there! That road looks a lot safer, don’t you think?!” Anyone else out there question the road He has laid out for you? Anyone else ever feel like Jesus’s way takes you through that one unsafe neighborhood? That dark street you go out of your way to avoid?

And it is amazing how we can so easily put our trust in things, other than God. I will listen to that GPS voice in my mini van, and go exactly where she tells me to go, even though, she is not a real person, and even though, I have absolutely no idea where I am. Which, for the record, I never know where I am. I have zero skills when it comes to directions, and I guarantee that if the correct way to go is right, I will go left. So, I fully rely on the generated woman’s voice in my car, going exactly where she tells me to go. I completely depend on her to get me where I am supposed to be, safely. Because isn’t that our goal? To arrive at our final destination, safe and sound?

And right here is where lies my problem. Jesus’s way? His way never feels safe. His way takes me on turns and hills, that no matter how many times He whispers be not afraid, I want to shout out, “then dude, take me another way!!!!” And when I am being truthful? When I can sit completely still in front of Jesus, pretending to be nothing other than the hot mess that I am, I can tell Him this. I can tell Him, “Your way frightens me. And by firightens, I means scares the S&%$ out of me. Your way is too hard. Your way doesn’t feel good to me.” And it is always when I do this, that He does what every smart gentleman knows to do. He reminds me of His mother. Of Mary. And off in the distance, at the foot of the cross, I see her. Standing. The road that began with an angel, and her “yes”, lead her to stand at the foot of the cross; the cross her son was nailed and crucified to. The nails, that my sins, pierced through His hands and feet. That path was not easy. That path was not safe. That path did not feel good.

But then, He rose.

We have to remember this, friends, don’t we? We have to remember the end of this love story. And by we, I mean me, because right now, I have nearly forgotten. Right now, all I can see is a dark and rocky road, that appears to have no end, that appears to lead to pain, that feels like the least safe road I have ever taken in my whole entire life. But when I place myself with Mary, when I remember that this story is one of love, that the only motive for every small bit of the cross was, and will always be, love….I can tighten my grip on hope. I can focus on just one more small step, rather than the overwhelming length of road ahead. I can remember that even unsafe stories have beautiful endings.

And love does this, wouldn’t you agree? Love takes us to hard places. Love leads us down paths that feel wrong. Love demands us to lose our instructions, to throw away our plans, and to follow the GPS implanted in our hearts, knit into our deepest selves. And sometimes, love means doing the exact opposite of what your feelings and emotions beg you to do. You hear no stories of Mary screaming out, “take my son down!” You hear no stories of Mary grasping at His feet, pulling Him from the wood, trying to stop it all from happening, screaming, “He is innocent, you idiots!!! This is all so incredibly unfair and wrong!” All we hear is her “yes” to God’s plan for her. All we hear is that she says, “do whatever He says” in Cana. And then, she stands.

We are all such good planners, aren’t we? And we are all really good at giving out orders, handing out the instructions, and finding the easiest way to our destination. But when we rely on ourselves to get us where we need to be safely, we shut out the One who has already mapped out our route, written our story. We ignore the voice of the One who walks ahead, behind and all around us. We turn away from the One who promises He knows the plans, and that they are ones to prosper us and not to harm us, to give us a hope and a future. (Jer 29:11) And I know. Sometimes our trials demand a trust of us that seems superhuman. Down right impossible. And our knee jerk reaction is to pull back, to stop praying, to give up. But sweet friends, this is when we are called to persevere and endure. This is when we need to stand strong, rooted in the Gospel, fully armed. Because these are the roads we need to drive down, trusting not on our own understanding, but leaning in to the One whose understanding is higher than we can ever reach or comprehend. We need to love God more than we love our own safe plans, so that when all is said and done, it will be His voice that says, “you have reached your final destination.” And we will be safe. And we will be sound. And we will be standing.