My mouth was dry as moth balls. My eyes itched and my temples throbbed. My palms were sweaty and I dug my nails into the seat cushion. My muscles tightened from the top of my head all the way down to my toes, and the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. The words ringing in my ears sent screaming chills down my spine.
What were these words? Were the words “fired” or “laid off” just handed out to me on a pink slip? Or were words given in a medical prognosis worse than first anticipated? Or were the judge’s words worse than expected? Or was the IRS handing out a penalty far beyond visibility? Or did a friend’s words betray a trust? Or maybe it was that dreadful middle of the night phone call – words no parent wants to receive?
No, it wasn’t any of these life changing words. I was simply sitting in my usual pew, dressed in my newest Sunday best. I was minding my own business, multi-tasking as usual, when all at once I heard the preacher say: “You are My friends if you do what I command you”.
Oh, not again! Was he going to go off about commandments and obedience yet again? Didn’t we just labor through all that submission stuff last month? Surely, there must be something else in the Bible to talk about. How about a little “judge not” reference once in a while? Or better yet, one of those “Do unto others” passages?
I can’t give you an exact place, date, or time for the above scenario. There have been so many similar instances in my life that it’s impossible to pick one out of the pack. But they are all basically the same when it comes to my response to preaching on the nastiest “four letter words” for a post-modern American woman. They are submission, obedience, and the longest four letter word of them all: commandment.
I don’t like these words or their fundamental principle. Deep down, I don’t want to do anything I don’t want to do, thank you very much! And the last thing I want to do when I get up in the morning is submit, obey, or follow commands. It’s just down right un-American. Right?
For too many decades, I struggled with the biblical model of submission. No, it was more than a struggle: it was an outright war! I just would not submit. Even when it appeared outwardly that I was submitting, I really wasn’t. I played that game very well.
You see, my philosophy used to be, “I will not do anything I do not want to do.” Such a mindset makes it very difficult to “work well and play well with others.” So, if there was something I absolutely had to do, but didn’t want to, I always found some reason, no matter how small, to feign cooperation. Some of my rational was I want to keep my job; I want you to like me; I want to get my way later, so I’ll do what you want now; or I want to appear to be godly.
But it was all a charade and overwhelmingly selfish. Every bit of my attitude and behavior was founded on survival of the fittest, and I was determined that would be me. I felt justified in this because I literally lived in survival mode for a good chunk of my adolescence. Submission was a sign of weakness and weakness meant I was vulnerable. I was determined I would never be vulnerable again.
But God! I say again, but God, would not allow me to do that! I am filled with praise He did not!
I finally learned that submission is not weakness. In fact, biblical submission is the supreme indicator of strength. Jesus wasn’t weak when He submitted to the cross. It was His greatest moment of strength. Oh to be more like Him!
One Another Living 