"Ask and it will be given to you; seek and you will find; knock and the door will be opened to you. For everyone who asks receives; he who seeks finds; and to him who knocks, the door will be opened.” Matthew 7:7-8
Twice I listened to Piper’s sermon on this passage. And it took twice for it to sink in: it’s not all about asking. I’m great at that asking part. Crying over earthly things I know I can’t afford. Begging, pleading, fasting, throwing what amounts to a spiritual tantrum, and even feeling justified in doing so – why would He give me these desires if He had no intention of fulfilling them?
And then I came face to face with my disobedience. After an emotionally trying experience, I realized that I’d been waiting on the decisions of another to move forward. While I was actively seeking G-d’s will in the situation, I wasn’t actively seeking His will for me. I prided myself on being flexible and adaptable, when no matter what; I should have been following the Lord’s lead for my life. Even more so when that made it clear that my path was here, not there.
Now I saw the connection between asking and seeking… but knocking? Why did I never realize this verb meant action on my part? That’s not to say that I can make the door open; it’s just to say that there must be some element of proactively doing on our part. It’s wise to see the order here. Only after pouring out our hearts and listening for His lead can we really have a sense of where to knock. But I’d had that sense for a while, and I was stubbornly ignoring it, though it really was what I truly desired.
I wanted to go back to school, full-time, and to make it financially plausible, I wanted to do it for free. I felt selfish in asking this. Don’t I have enough degrees? I should be happy with what I’ve got, and if the Lord wants me to do this later (i.e., after raising a family), then maybe it will work out then. I’d projected my own timeline onto the situation, hoping that my first desire (husband and family) would come first (duh), and that the second desire (to teach), could wait. So, I didn’t knock. I even knew where the door was and didn’t knock.
Until two weeks ago, that is. I called up the director of the seminary affiliated with my church and asked to meet with him to talk. I had outlined my questions, concerns, and what would need to happen for me to be able to pursue an MA in Religion. First, I wanted to make sure all of the courses would be offered in a two-year span, to ensure I wouldn’t be spending 6 years completing another degree. Second, I wanted to make sure I could fit in Hebrew and Greek without having to take extra credits. Third, I “needed” a full scholarship. I have too much school debt already to tack on more. And finally, I really wanted a new job that would be flexible with my class schedule, pay the bills, and maybe even be in my field.
I knew it was a tall order. But I had to knock and see if the door opened, and trust that if this really was where the Lord wanted me, He would provide.
I sat down at the meeting two weeks ago, and the director answered ever one of my questions before I’d asked. Yes, he was obligated to offer the full rotation of MA classes in a two-year cycle, and Greek and Hebrew are the exact number of elective credit hours to complete the program. He also needed a Special Events Coordinator, and because of my TA position last semester, he knew I would be great at orchestrating their Spring Concert, lecture series, and graduation. And, he would give me full tuition to do so. He also happens to be on the board of an organization that works with persecuted Christians in the Muslim world, and low and behold, he knew they were looking to hire on more folks – specifically someone with writing skills and knowledge of the Middle East. In fact, when he’d read my paper for the Islam class, it confirmed that I would be an excellent candidate for the job.
I don’t have the job in the bank, yet. It may not come through at all. But I know I’ll be in school this fall, studying what I love to prepare me to do what I’ll love. And I know that I’ll be moving at the end of July, to a townhouse that’s closer to school, potentially closer to the new job and with three other girls from church. Moving was not a necessity; especially since I don’t know if I’ll get this job or not, and if I don’t, I’ll be adding a significant commute to my current job. It’s also caused a great deal of anxiety, as I look around my apartment, where I’ve grown extremely comfortable in the last three years. This is home. I’ve been here longer than any one place since I was fifteen. But if I don’t leave now, I fear I’ll become complacent. I’ll wake up five years from now, in the same dead-end job, in the same apartment, stuck in a rut.
Some change is good. Multiple changes are stressful. And I find myself seeking refuge not in the Lord, where I should be, but in Harry Potter. Sad but true. I know I’m distracting myself, not wanting to deal with the emotional drain of a relationship let-down, the packing and sorting of moving, or the prospects of changing jobs. You would think after just learning a lesson in disobedience, after seeing the Lord open doors and growing deeper in an understanding of what it means to trust in Him, that I would be most keen on spending my spare time in His word, with Him. But I’ve been sucked into the world of wizards and Muggles, the timeless saga of good versus evil, and the challenge of trying to catch up before book seven’s release. Lest you fret I’ve gone too far, there’s a great dialogue on Christians and HP here.
Back to this passage in Matthew: I think the repetition – ask, seek, knock – speaks highly to our human nature. It’s simple and instructive. And it’s clearly something we have to come back to, over and over again.
Sometimes, Sundays feel too harried and forced, and I find myself in a dilemma of whether or not corporate worship will do more good than harm. I'm put off by the routine, the primping and labor of going to church, fellowshiping at lunch, church again, and another social activity on top of that. I find an unnatural pressure to fill the entire day with fellowship-related events. Granted, if I felt like that every Sunday, it might be cause for concern, and generally I am all for Sunday corporate worship. But, I do find I must prioritize what my other Sunday activities will be, and on this end, I seem to be coming across as anti-social. 
So today, after an intense week of too many activities, and camping all weekend with friends, I took a break. What I find frustrating is that twinge of remorse - not that I should have been at church, but that I've disappointed people. This has lessened as I've grown more, and understood the ramifications of me not resting. And I'm reminded that Jesus modeled this balance of community fellowship with times of individual reflection and isolation. If I did not guard this time, if I did not in some way make it a holy offering between me and my Lord, I'd be unable to fully give myself to the church, my friends, my week, my job, etc., without causing irreparable damage to myself, or to those relationships I cherish. 
