"God saved Daniel in an astounding way, inspiring generations of people to grasp the reality of God's control over the material world, and the extent to which He is willing to show His involvement in our lives."
To prevent lions from doing what is in their nature to do--eat you--is a miracle, and Daniel was chosen to experience it.
But being thrown into a den of lions seems a strange follow up after what Daniel had already sacrificed for God: "Don't eat the food from the King's table. That stuff is bad for you. Tell him you want vegetables instead." Seriously? He's offering the best, most sumptuous delicacies that man can produce and You want me to turn them down and eat kale?
It would require far too much will power on my part to pass up the tasty food the king was sharing from his table. He was eating steak and baked potatoes and Chicken Kiev and pasta with Alfredo sauce and strawberry shortcake with ice cream for dessert. Every day.
It seems to me a sort of irrelevant, dispensable kind of choice that isn't important in the scheme of things, especially when you're locked up in a dungeon. I would think it excusable if Daniel hadn't listened.
I would have convinced myself that God wasn't really saying that I had to give it up. Life is already hard enough. The business of conjuring faith for the big stuff takes up all my emotional and mental capacities and stretches me to my limit, so don't get picky about the little things. After all, a lion is in my future, so give me a break.
But it's more complicated than that and there's a lot more at stake: if Daniel refuses the King's food, it's an insult. He could be executed for such a rejection. I say, all the more reason to call out, "Where's the beef?"
More than that, eating from his table demonstrates complete loyalty to the king and no other. Daniel can't allow that.
His response? Please pass the broccoli.
Self indulgence doesn't result in getting thrown in the lion's den, however. In fact, God isn't going to gain anything from doing it to me. He will get no honor because I will get eaten and everyone will watch it happen and jeer at God. My faith muscles are flaccid from lack of use. I haven't accepted the preparatory work of being conformed daily, minute by minute, listening and obeying in the little things, and I would not be able to rise to the occasion. For that kind of trial, God needs someone who has changed at the cellular level through subtle checks, through willingness to listen and obey in the small things, crucifying doubt and indolence and self-soothing.
When it comes to a lazy conscience, the reward is a dull heart. Waking up in the morning to a minor key. There is nothing tangible to blame for the missing spark in my heart. There is where I abide, in murky, purposeless, vaguely depressed dis-ease. I ask myself what I have to be unhappy about and I blame a thousand little grievances imposed on me by life--and I become a victim.
Really though, all I have to do is go back to the beginning. Where have I had little, stunted, midget faith? Where have I refused God's ministries in the little choices? When have I been lazy and self-absorbed? When did I slip from the higher road onto the lower?
I get something out of tuning out God's voice--I must--because when he gives me a tiny nudge, like when I wake up in the middle of the night and He tells me to stop watching The Walking Dead, I do it anyhow. Choosing to NOT watch is just a little hard. The Walking Dead is exciting in its shock value, in the suspense of a human-chomping zombie bursting into a quiet and defenseless moment. Over the years of ignoring God I have become inured to the horror of graphic violence and immoral behavior. It has become entertaining. And besides, what will I do to fill my time otherwise? I can't conceive of anything that will achieve the same result, which is oblivion for a little while. Suspension of thought, transference of unpleasant emotions, a state of fugue born of effortlessness.
In fact, this is the frame of mind that I find repugnant in others. I tut tut over people who refuse to rouse themselves to the smallest accomplishment, only to end up wallowing in a flat feeling of lethargy and futility. Mediocrity is a choice--we can't blame it on anyone else but ourselves. And yet, there go I.
11Corinthians 11:2 began today's nudge from God, telling me that it is essential to God that I hear Him in the tiniest moments, at the most insignificant times, in each case not to be ignored, ever.
"I am jealous over you with God's own jealousy" says God. His jealousy is extreme. It is caught up in the most singular of moments--because every moment is singular to Him. One is not more important than another. Each one presents a choice, which has a consequence, and He wants to guide me in every one of them in order to bring about the outcome that is in my best interest, and that keeps me protected, alive, nourished, strong.
What I understood today is that the question is not how do I know God's will for me. He's telling me right now that I can live His will because He is informing every choice I make, second by second, and I can choose it or refuse it. Where Daniel was going to end up didn't really matter to him. He wasn't looking into the future and asking God what His plan was for his life--Daniel was doing what he already knew to be God's will. God had started with "don't eat that," and because Daniel listened, God said, "eat this". Because his will was in alignment with God's, he didn't have undefined moments, unintentional stumbling into negative circumstances, whining over consequences.
There was a lot at stake for Daniel too, because we all know what could have happened in the lion's den.
I don't think there is as much at stake in my life as there was in Daniel's, because I don't think God is going to repeat that particular miracle. It really was a one-time event, not to be compared to any others. Besides, it's too reminiscent of the crunching and squishing sounds in The Walking Dead--it's just not feasible in my world. Who knows what's in store for my future? I just know that I can't dismiss those little moments anymore as inconsequential, because they determine it. There IS a lot at stake for my life and if I haven't learned anything else today, I hope I learned that.
Right now, today, I have God's will for my next moments. He told me what His will isn't, and it isn't to space out on tv. So I won't do it. Then He wondered whether I might like to write down these things that He showed me today, so I'm doing it.
After this, I think He wants me eat pizza out on my back porch, in the sun, quiet and content. Unless, of course, He tells me differently. The cool, very cool thing that I learned today is that He will.
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