The Power Of A Whisper Part 8

I mentioned earlier in this chapter that when I was studying Romans 8:1, I had an experience wherein I knowingly disobeyed a prompting from G.o.d, and even after I had claimed his forgiveness for my sin, I sensed the suffocating effects of Satan's string of lies. See if any of these lies sound familiar to you.

Lie #1: "A true Christ-follower never would have done what you just did, Bill."

Despite my sincerest apologies to G.o.d, if I'm not careful I'll revert to believing that based on my careless behavior, I must be a fake and a fraud. "Maybe I just thought I was redeemed," I speculate. "Maybe I just thought I was a faithful Christ-follower."

Buying lie #1 means playing into Satan's taunt that I'm not really an adopted child of G.o.d's. After all, look at the mess I just made! What kind of son would do that?

As lie #1 begins to worm its way into my psyche, lie #2 starts to kick up some dust: "A holy G.o.d never will forgive a sin like that, Bill. I mean, he's the G.o.d of the Ten Commandments! He's the G.o.d who wiped out entire people groups in the Old Testament for stunts less than what you've just done! He must be spitting angry at you right now, big guy. Eternally angry! Good luck garnering forgiveness, pal. In your dreams."

It's when I'm already down and feeling defenseless that Satan spews lies three through five.

Lie #3: "Your family and friends will never respect you again when they find out what you've done. They'll see you for who you really are...and bail."

Lie #4: "Your church will never open its arms to you again. The next time you step anywhere near that group, you'll swiftly be shown the door!"

Lie #5: "You'll never be eligible to be used by G.o.d again. Your sin mocked his holiness, and G.o.d will not be mocked."

IT TOOK ME LESS THAN FIVE MINUTES TO WRITE DOWN THE five-step digression you just read. I've gone down those familiar stairs hundreds of times, refusing to heed the whispers of the Spirit that "there is no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." When I think of all that wasted time and self-reproach, it almost makes me physically ill. Jesus knew a better way! Take a look at his example: Just before he began his preaching ministry, Matthew 4 says that Jesus was led into the desert, where he was tempted three times by Satan. He had been fasting for more than a month and was tired and hungry when he faced the shrewdest liar the world ever has known. But instead of merely responding to Satan's temptations with a half-hearted, "Nah. Not interested," Jesus answered with hard-core truth. He had the Word of G.o.d in his mind and on his heart, so when he was tempted to take a tumble, even in his weakened condition, G.o.d's truth steadied his stance.

"When the evil one fought dirty, Jesus didn't rely on a community of friends to help him, his amazing prayer life or even his intimate connection with the Father. Rather, in the heat of battle, Jesus relied on the concrete truth of G.o.d's Word to counter the temptations leveled his way. Having spent his earthly years saturating himself with Scripture, he was fully equipped with truth to silence Satan's lies.

You and I would do well to follow suit.

I don't know if this is true for you, but when it comes to spiritual growth, I tend to follow a predictable trend: I'll grow steadily for a while; and then for reasons even I don't understand, I flatten out. Author Henri Amiel says, "The stationary condition is the beginning of the end,"20 and based on myriad flat-lined moments I've experienced, I have to agree with those words.

Whenever I find myself in plateau mode, I notice how spiritually restless I become. I feel like my energies bear no fruit, my prayers bounce off of the ceiling and my calling grows cloudy and dim. Inevitably I start playing the blame game with gritted determination, figuring somebody must be at fault for my obvious lack of growth. I blame G.o.d, I blame my church, I blame my small group, I blame my mentors, I blame my wife and I even blame the planets for obviously not being aligned.

Once I get through those initial indictments, though, I am left facing the truth. "Bill, you're not kidding anybody. You're responsible for your own spiritual development. It's no one's job but yours to find your way back."

The last time I felt a sense of spiritual restlessness-when I had reached a plateau and was starting to slide into a serious state of decline-I chose a single chapter of the Bible and decided that instead of continuing to bounce along the surface, I was going to go deep. "I'm going to live in this single chapter of Scripture until the truths in it begin to live in me," I committed to myself. Rather than merely getting through the Bible, I wanted the Bible to get through to me.

I had done this sort of "saturation reflection" before and found that as I immersed myself in G.o.d's Word-even in those pa.s.sages that I had read hundreds of times before-I received fresh insight and fuel for future growth.

Many years ago, I dove into the book of Proverbs and did not come out until I felt its wisdom affecting my thoughts on a daily basis. Years later, I did the same thing with Luke 15, Acts 2 and the entire book of John.

More recently, I spent twelve months parked in the twelfth chapter of the book of Romans, and it proved the most transformational Bible-reading experiment I've done to date. My "plan" wasn't rocket science; I just decided to read one verse at least once each day and then would journal my observations and thoughts. The next day, I'd read through the next verse and pray back various truths to G.o.d. On some days I would read the whole chapter. Other days I would see how much of the chapter I could say from memory. If I was traveling and didn't understand a particular concept, I'd Google the verse and spend some time reviewing other people's ideas on what the text might mean. You wouldn't believe some of the insights that can be gleaned from believers living in places like Budapest and Kathmandu.

Here's why I bring up the saturation-reflection idea. While it's true that G.o.d speaks timely, practical wisdom via various verses of Scripture, it is also true that those pieces only tell part of the story. There is tremendous benefit to be gained from going slowly and systematically through the Word of G.o.d, asking him with every turn of events, "What were you up to here, G.o.d? Why did you pour favor on that woman or man? What can I learn from this simple verse that I've read a hundred times before?"

G.o.d delights when we are quiet and still before him, soaking in the wonders of his magnificent truth, and placing ourselves in a ready state to hear from him. If you need permission to ditch your through-the-entire-Bible-in-thirty-days reading plan, this is it. Slow your pace. Soak it in. And listen for his voice.

G.o.d, IN HIS KINDNESS, HAS PROVIDED YOU AND ME WITH A lifetime of whispers, found between the covers of the Bible. We may not hear a personal, audible whisper from him for every (or any) situation, but through his Word, every Christ-follower has full access to what he wants us to know-about himself, his character and the life he is calling us to live. And yet we muddle through life's circ.u.mstances, forgetting the incredible power available to us through his Word. As we close this chapter, explore with me a story from 2 Kings, which casts a vivid picture of the reality of the power available to us from our Father. In this scene, the prophet Elisha and his servant were walking to town, clueless that upon their arrival they would be ambushed and most certainly killed. There was a war going on, and evidently Elisha was on the wrong side of the opposing king's favor.

Concerning Elijah's traveling companion, 2 Kings 6:15a17 says, "When the servant of the man of G.o.d got up and went out early the next morning, an army with horses and chariots had surrounded the city. 'On no, my lord! What shall we do?' the servant asked.

"'Don't be afraid,' the prophet answered. 'Those who are with us are more than those who are with them.'

"And Elisha prayed, 'Open his eyes, LORD, SO that he may see.' Then the LORD opened the servant's eyes, and he looked and saw the hills full of horses and chariots of fire all around Elisha." And, as you'd guess, the servant then found nothing to fear.

On more occasions than I care to admit, I find myself thinking, "I know in my head that with the power of Christ living in me, I should be able to face this particular situation, but in my heart, the odds just feel too big." I look at my surrounding circ.u.mstances and think, "There is no way this can turn out well."

But then I remember that little story about Elisha and his servant. What might s.h.i.+ft in my heart if G.o.d were to unveil my eyes and show me that despite my fear or uncertainty, I'm actually surrounded by his powerful protection and presence?

It's time for us to s.h.i.+ft our focus. Instead of staring at the obstacles and obstructions that Satan loves for us to see, we must fix our gaze on the path of provision that G.o.d already has paved. He has given us full access to his wisdom, full a.s.surance of his faithfulness and full availability of his power through the pages of Scripture. Some scriptural whispers are admonis.h.i.+ng, some are correcting, some are filled with delight and some bring challenges our way. But the net effect remains the same: We are steered in a G.o.d-ward direction when we act on the truth of his Word.

CHAPTER 6.

LIGHT FOR DARK NIGHTS.

OF THE SOUL.

ALMOST EVERYONE I KNOW IS A SUCKER FOR A RAGS-TO-riches tale, and the Old Testament contains a real page-turner as a simple shepherd boy rises to power and becomes king. While he was still tending a flock of his father's smelly sheep, a young man named David was tapped by G.o.d and told that he would one day lead the nation of Israel. It was quite a stretch to imagine this wiry, inexperienced kid a.s.suming such a lofty role.

As David the boy became David the man, his skill and popularity with the people of Israel grew as well. Realizing that the up-and-comer's charisma was overshadowing him, the current king-a man named Saul-resolved to snuff the new guy out. Consequently, David would spend the next ten or so years not as a megastar king of Israel, but rather as a man on the run. With that as context, let's look at what happened next.

In chapter 30 of 1 Samuel, everything is going wrong for David. He had been rus.h.i.+ng from town to town, rallying a group of warriors for a big battle against Saul, when he learns that the village he'd been calling home has been raided and burned to the ground. His family has been kidnapped and his possessions are nowhere to be found. To make matters worse, David's men are so bitter over the loss of their own loved ones and belongings that they now are theatening to kill David too. In today's parlance, this is what we call a "dark night of the soul."

Now, here is what I find interesting about this entire saga. In 1 Samuel 30:4, we find David bursting out in loud wails and weeping until he is weak with exhaustion. He misses his family, he misses his bed and he is tired of living on the lam. He knows that G.o.d has called him to fulfill a specific purpose in life, but based on recent events, it seems that the divine dream is pretty much dead.

Or maybe not.

Exactly two verses later, the text says this: "But David strengthened himself in the LORD his G.o.d."1 For some time now, I've held to a theory about what took place between David's emotional meltdown and the surge of divine strength that soon would enable him to get his family and property back-and to emerge victorious in the battle against archenemy Saul. I believe that in two brief verses' time, David received a whisper from G.o.d that spoke light into the darkest of nights.

I HAVE LIVED THROUGH A FEW DARK NIGHTS OF MY OWN, AND perhaps you have too. One of the most vivid memories of my early ministry days includes such a night. A small group of friends and I-all equally inexperienced-had started Willow Creek Community Church four years earlier, and all indications pointed to a mission that was being achieved. We still were meeting in a rented movie theater, but that wasn't hindering G.o.d's work in people's lives: men and women were surrendering their lives to Christ and learning to serve others instead of living for themselves. But in 1979, all of that momentum would come cras.h.i.+ng to a halt, as a knockout punch caused a ten-count to ring through our team's collective ears.

The near-fatal blow had been caused by an unfortunate collision of bad circ.u.mstances, inexperience and sin, a collision that we later would refer to as the "train-wreck era."2 Various staff members had wandered off of G.o.d's path. Some of our best volunteers had gotten sideways with each other. The church's Elders (one of whom was me) were young and inexperienced. As things continued to unravel, people in the congregation withheld their t.i.thes and offerings as a sign of protest. Many quit serving on weekends and stopped supporting almost everything we did.

To complicate matters further, we were in the middle of a building program that Willow could barely afford. The faithful members of our congregation had taken out bank loans to fund our expansion, and yet still we were gasping for air as we sank in a pool of red ink.

Topping it all off was the fact that my leaders.h.i.+p was in its infancy, as evidenced by my less-than-stellar response to our church's giant mess. I got wounded by staff members and lost my objectivity along the way. On many occasions my actions were unnecessary and unwise.

In the end, the church was almost destroyed. Those of us who had poured our lives into fulfilling the mission and vision of Willow Creek Community Church came within a hair's breadth of bailing altogether.

On one day in particular, everything came to a head. I remember going home from work, bypa.s.sing dinner, telling Lynne good night and finding my way to the family room floor. A knot of thoughts had my mind cinched, and the only thing I could think to do was to lie face down with arms stretched over my head and pour out my heart to G.o.d.

I've often heard people say they prayed "all night" when an especially agonizing situation threatened their health or wellbeing. Those statements are understood to be hyperbole, right? Sort of like the country songs that talk about making love "all night long." I certainly would have a.s.sumed so, until my all-night, s.h.a.g-carpet experience.

As I lay there, my wet eyes shut tight and my cheeks burning from the rough carpet pile, I silently said, "G.o.d, I am not getting up from here until there is resolution in my heart. I can't lead this church one more day until you tell me what I'm supposed to do."

I began praying a series of unedited prayers-confessing everything I could think to confess, submitting to every ounce of G.o.d's truth I could call to mind, reviewing each excruciating element of the train wreck and asking how I could have averted what had ended in such a mess. I spiraled through round upon round of anxiety: "How am I going to explain to people that we have to shut down the church? How do I tell my friends and family the truth? How do I fire all the staff?"-on and on the desperate conversation went.

As nighttime gave way to morning, something had to give.

AROUND FIVE A.M., I RECEIVED THE LONG-AWAITED PROMPTing from G.o.d: "I want you to get up, go to work, put one foot in front of the other and remember that I am with you today. Tomorrow, I want you to do the same thing again. We're going to get through this together, Bill, but it will only happen one day at a time."

"That's it?" I thought, still lying there, face down. "That's what I ate carpet for, all night long?" Tempers had been blazing and people had been resigning, and G.o.d's big solution was for me to just "go to work"? Truthfully, I expected more flair. Complex problems require complex solutions, but G.o.d's answer was as simple as they come. Still, I didn't have a better idea, so I did precisely as I'd been told.

The previous evening, en route to my prostrate night of prayer, I'd mumbled something to Lynne about the "dream" being "over." But now, here I was, showering and heading off to work like usual-a contrast that wasn't lost on her.

"What are you doing?" she asked her weary husband, who despite being clean still wore carpet creases on his face.

"I'm going to work," I said.

"That's it?" she asked. "In the midst of everything that is happening all around us, your grand plan is just to 'go to work'?"

"Yep," I said with fresh resolve. "That's exactly what I'm going to do."

When I got to the office, not one of my circ.u.mstances had changed. The congregational letters still were scathing, the financial reports still were miserable and life as I knew it just plain stunk. But in spite of all that, I felt a deep and abiding sense of serenity as G.o.d a.s.sured, "I will help you stay this course."

With my hand clutching tightly to his, I prepared messages one week at a time, we made construction payments one creditor at a time and I placed one foot in front of the other, step by tiny step. There was no parting of the skies, no blinking neon lights and no immediate resolution to the ma.s.sive issues that we as a church faced. There was just the constant and comforting accompaniment of G.o.d as we somehow muddled our way through. The verse that promises "peace that pa.s.ses understanding" became a refres.h.i.+ng refrain as I watched Willow slowly get peeled off of the canvas and start standing on its feet once again. G.o.d was sustaining-and rebuilding-what remained of our decimated church, one day at a time.

I READ THE BOOK OF JAMES MANY TIMES DURING THAT agonizing season of ministry. Each time, I was struck by the apostle's a.s.sertion that people who follow Jesus Christ can actually get to a point of spiritual maturity where they view challenges and hards.h.i.+ps as a blessing rather than a curse. We're not asked to smile at the trouble itself-G.o.d would never ask his children to be glib about something destructive or sad-but we can grow to smile at the by-products of trouble.

"Consider it a sheer gift," we read in James 1:2a4, "when tests and challenges come at you from all sides. You know that under pressure, your faith-life is forced into the open and shows its true colors. So don't try to get out of anything prematurely. Let it do its work so you become mature and well-developed, not deficient in any way."3 In February 1981, our congregation relocated from the rented movie theater, where we had held weekend services for six and a half years, to a brand-new lakeside auditorium on property that we could call home. For those of us who had been knitted together since the church's beginning, opening day was nothing short of miraculous. During that inaugural service, scores of us gathered in little friends.h.i.+p cl.u.s.ters, just bawling our eyes out over all that G.o.d had done.

Visitors in close proximity to us must have thought, "This place really is in trouble if those emotional basket cases are running the show." They couldn't possibly have known that our tears were warranted. We had walked through a terrible valley, but by G.o.d's grace we had endured. G.o.d had sustained us as he had promised. He had led us, one step at a time.

Since those days, Willow Creek has experienced unbelievable ups and downs. We've seen modern-day miracles and endured unfair media coverage. We've developed leaders and seen difficult staff departures. We've set records and faced unmet goals. We've experienced outpourings of resources and weathered deep financial recessions that required serious belt-tightening. But never again have we returned to that canvas-the ten-count thankfully has been kept at bay by a s.h.a.g-carpet promise I will never forget.

On many occasions throughout my adult life I have come to the place where, like David, I needed encouragement straight from the Lord. The situations have varied, but the solution is always the same. When dark nights descend and hope feels long gone, G.o.d's voice alone brings light.

Around the same time that the train-wreck era began at Willow, the personal side of my life also suffered a tremendous blow.

On the heels of a heartbreaking miscarriage that Lynne had suffered, I got word that my dad had suddenly died of a ma.s.sive heart attack. He was only fifty-two years old. He had been on a business trip in Chicago when his heart stopped beating, and now I was supposed to drive downtown to claim his body at the morgue. It was September 28, 1978, and I remember the drive down the JFK Expressway like it happened yesterday.

"What am I going to do without a dad?" I asked G.o.d aloud. Harold Hybels had been my strongest supporter, my closest confidant and the biggest personality I had ever known. He was larger than life. He had seen me through the trickiest leaders.h.i.+p challenges and had believed in me like no one ever had. "Without my father," I told G.o.d, "I don't know that I can handle what you have entrusted to me." I had barely been staying afloat at "Willow, and that was with my dad's attention and care. Now that he was gone...I could not bear the thought.

Halfway between Barrington and downtown Chicago I sensed a clear prompting from a loving G.o.d. "I will be your Father," he said. "I promise, you're not alone."

As his words sank into my soul, I felt a burden lift from my chest. Immediately, the Spirit brought to mind a phrase from Psalm 68:4a5, which says, Sing to G.o.d, sing in praise of his name;

extol him who rides on the clouds;

rejoice before him-his name is the LORD.

A father to the fatherless, a defender of widows,

is G.o.d in his holy dwelling.

"A father to the fatherless"-that single truth wedged its way into my mind and offered peace when there was none to be found. G.o.d would be my father. G.o.d would be my supporter. G.o.d would be my confidant. G.o.d would be my sustenance every day of my life. It would take me some time to learn to lean into him in all of those roles, but eventually I would come to rely on him just as he had invited me to.

I'm pus.h.i.+ng sixty years old now and am intrigued by the fact that so many of my contemporaries still have their dads around. From time to time, they'll call to bail on weekend plans with me, explaining that they need to spend some time with their fathers. I still catch myself feeling a surge of shock when I remember that I'm not in that same relational boat. I haven't had a dad since my mid-twenties, but fatherless I am not. It's a distinction I'm sure I'll be drawing until the day I inhale my last breath. And I will never forget the well-timed whisper from G.o.d one morning on the JFK.

A FEW YEARS LATER, IN THE EARLY 1980S, THE ELDERS OF Willow and I took a stand in advocating the role of women in church leaders.h.i.+p. We had done our due diligence of theological explorations in Scripture for more than two years' time and believed that based on the Bible's teaching, we needed to strongly support the contribution of both genders to the G.o.d-glorifying mission we were working so hard to achieve.

One Sunday, following a rather contentious meeting in which the Elders explained their position, more than two hundred families decided to leave. They weren't just leaving the meeting; they also were leaving the church. We had just settled into our new auditorium, and their departure stood in stark contrast to the "We made it!" feelings we'd recently shared. Had I led us down a wrong turn?

One day soon thereafter, I was home with my daughter, Shauna, who was just a preschooler at the time. She was chattering away, engrossed in her creative world of imagination, and enjoying being a little girl. As I observed her, G.o.d whispered a much-needed message my way. "You might take a hit for what you've advocated, Bill, but every little girl growing up in Willow's family for generations to come will be the beneficiary of your strong stand."

It was precisely the a.s.surance I needed, from the only One whose approval I sought.

AS THE 1980S UNFOLDED, I NOTICED A TREND IN MY WORK LIFE emerge: in three words, too much teaching. My entire life somehow had been reduced to the preparation of sermons, the delivery of sermons and the recuperation necessary once those sermons had been delivered. At the time, Willow was holding four weekend services, two midweek services and countless holiday services-in addition to the staff meetings, leaders.h.i.+p retreats and church leaders' conferences where I was also expected to speak. The net effect was not pretty. I dreaded my role. I fantasized about going back into the corporate world. And my survival strategy was to economize my relations.h.i.+ps, my spiritual disciplines and my emotional health-which thrust me, understandably, into crisis mode.

This dark night of the soul came when I realized that if I didn't make some major adjustments to my life-and fast-I'd flame out of ministry altogether. G.o.d had been present on previous hopeless nights; would he prove faithful yet again?

I'll spare you the nuanced details of how it all came down, but the gist of G.o.d's just-in-time whisper to me was this: "You're more than a message machine."

My words back to him were simple ones: "Thank you for revealing that to me. Whatever changes must be made or price paid, I'm ready to leave crisis mode for good."

That single prayer ushered in Willow's team-teaching approach, which we (and thousands of other churches these days) have employed ever since. It also paved the way for me to live a healthier life. And it all emanated from a whisper.

Although the dark nights of the soul I've encountered have been perhaps the most difficult points of my life, they have taught me three truths about G.o.d for which I am thankful. Regardless of what dark nights you face, see if these truths resonate with you.