Heaven’s Natural Response to Disappointment

"Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth, in my life, as it is in heaven."

Wouldn’t it be a relief to respond to God’s will as joyfully and immediately as the angels in heaven? Too often, by the time I think to rely on his Spirit, everything is already in flames.

How long, Oh Lord, before my natural response, the words that come tripping off my tongue, the subtleties of my body language, the surface tension of my emotional tidal pool, will be quite naturally those of Jesus?

"Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth, in my life, as it is in heaven."

Wouldn’t it be a relief to respond to God’s will as joyfully and immediately as the angels in heaven? Too often, by the time I think to rely on his Spirit, everything is already in flames.

How long, Oh Lord, before my natural response, the words that come tripping off my tongue, the subtleties of my body language, the surface tension of my emotional tidal pool, will be quite naturally those of Jesus?

"And we all, with unveiled face, beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed into the same image from one degree of glory to another" (2 Cor. 3:18). God intends to make us, as Dallas Willard has said, the kind of person he can set free in his universe with the power to do whatever we want. Because what we want will be what he wants. Our natural response will be his response.

In the meantime, though, what can we do to make our natural responses more heavenly? Paul’s words give more than a hint: "And we…beholding the glory of the Lord, are being transformed…" We may not be able to naturally respond with the mind and heart of Jesus every time, but we can choose to "behold the glory of the Lord"—read his words, see him loving, working, and walk prayerfully close to him.

Beholding really is transforming. A long, intimate look at Jesus changes my natural response to disappointment and loss.   It redeems my imagination to look back to see the glory of the Lord in creation, in great literature and art, and in history, especially the cross and resurrection–God at work all over the place, "marvelous in our eyes." I look ahead to his promises for the future, the providential sweep of the future course of history and his promise to be with me, strengthening me, helping me, preparing for me a place in his kingdom to come. Beholding restores my gratitude for the past, my hope for the future, my wonder for my God in this moment.

While we may long for the bold Damascus Road brand of transformation, God usually works change in small increments. Trying to see it is like trying to watch the moon move.  But every once in a while, by his sheer grace, we catch God at work, transforming our response and us one degree closer to Christ.

Recently I attended a fundraising event where, as a donation to the silent auction, I had contributed my services as a speaker. When the time came to be seated for dinner there was "no room in the inn." The front table seats the hostess thought she had reserved for us were nowhere to be found. Red faced and stammering, she showed us to a table on the very back row of a very large ballroom.

As we introduced ourselves to the guests there, they recognized my name and face from the picture on my donation to the silent auction. My husband was a former president of the sponsoring organization. "So why are you here in the cheap seats?" they quipped.

And instead of gently suppressing a tiny little huff or whine, I had been beholding the glory of the Lord that morning—specifically Jesus’ disgust with the Pharisees: "Woe to you. For you love the best seat in the synagogues." Lord, teach me not to love the seats of honor, I had prayed. And here, just hours later, came the opportunity for a heavenly natural response.

As we took our seats I thanked God for the fresh picture of what he loves. Lord, please surprise us with warm conversation. A meaningful and delightful connection with people we don’t know. And he did.

And I had the joy and relief of Jesus’ natural response.

OK, within five seconds max.