Detours, bumps, and an unopened scroll

So many of my frustrations happen when God’s ways clash with my own. When a detour means that it takes longer to get from Point A to Point B or I’m forced to take a bumpy path instead of the smooth one I prefer. 

Everything from school, to leading worship–even my relationship with God–has felt like that to me lately, and I’ve found myself asking:

Why can’t things be easier?

When I finally had the sense to ask God why everything feels so clunky, He answered almost immediately—nudging my heart just enough to turn my thoughts in a different direction.

People. People are the reason why God allows us to struggle along a path riddled with difficulty instead of continuing full speed ahead on a 6-lane superhighway. You don’t encounter any people on the freeway, but obstacles force us to slow down long enough to notice that we don’t travel through this life alone. 

This new thought trajectory forced me to ask why I value efficiency so much. For my own convenience and ease? Because I want people to think I have it all together?

The people I am trying to impress may be the very people God has sent to help me through hardship. Or maybe He wants me to pause and take note of the person that desperately needs to be reminded of His love. 

Either way, people are worth the time and energy it takes to go the long way around.

God’s ways have proven that time and time again. Why did He wait 1,500 years after Cain murdered Abel to send the flood? He is merciful, and He loves people. Why did 2,000 years pass between God’s promise to Abraham and the day that Jesus, the long-awaited Messiah, was born into that family? People. He’ll do whatever it takes to capture the hearts of people.

Why are we still left longing for the Day that Jesus returns to make all of the wrong things right? There are reasons that are beyond my comprehension, but I sense that most of them center on … people.

Even though I know I am one of the people to whom God has shown mercy, I find it hard to struggle in the waiting. With the author of the book of Revelation, my heart yearns to see all of the broken things restored:

“Then I saw in the right hand of him who sat on the throne a scroll with writing on both sides and sealed with seven seals. And I saw a mighty angel proclaiming in a loud voice, ‘Who is worthy to break the seals and open the scroll?’ But no one in heaven or on earth or under the earth could open the scroll or even look inside it. I wept and wept because no one was found who was worthy to open the scroll or look inside.”–Revelation 5:1-4 (NIV)

I am not an authority on prophecy or the book of Revelation, but I do know this. That scroll—whatever it is or represents—has to be opened before we get to leave the wreckage behind us once and for all, finally experiencing the full reality of all of God’s promises. And there is only One who can open it.

“Then one of the elders said to me, ‘Do not weep!’ See, the Lion of the tribe of Judah, the Root of David, has triumphed. He is able to open the scroll and its seven seals.’ Then I saw a Lamb, looking as if it had been slain, standing at the center of the throne, encircled by the four living creatures and the elders … He went and took the scroll from the right hand of him who sat on the throne. And when he had taken it, the four living creatures and the twenty-four elders fell down before the Lamb … And they sang a new song, saying: ‘You are worthy to take the scroll and to open its seals, because you were slain, and with your blood you purchased for God PERSONS from every tribe and language and people and nation. You have made them to be a kingdom and priests to serve our God, and they will reign on the earth.’”–Revelation 5:5-10 (NIV, emphasis mine)

Thank God that you and I were worth it to Him. That we were worth the horrors Jesus faced at the cross.

Calling down angels would have been far less complicated, but I am so grateful that He was willing to stagger up Golgotha’s hill to become the Lamb slain for our redemption. He won the right to open the scroll—to set off a chain of events that, in the end, will satisfy all of our deepest longings.

Our hope is in Him, and if we must take the path of greater resistance, we do so following in His footsteps.

Father,

I want to be willing to go Your way, even when it’s the long way. Even when it costs. Thank you for the hope that we have in Jesus–that someday all things will be made new and that He is with us in the meantime.

In Jesus’ name,

Amen

P.S. If you haven’t heard this song yet, you should give it a listen!