Undevoted – Page 4 – God or Delusion?

Gradual Recovery: A Response to July 18th

This is part of my year-long series exploring human-centered alternatives to the spiritual promises in Oswald Chambers’ classic devotional My Utmost for His Highest. Today’s entry, “The Mystery of Believing”, promises that believers can experience instant spiritual transformation through “the miracle of the redemption,” claiming that when “Jesus Christ appears” to someone, they must choose total obedience or risk “signing the death warrant of the Son of God” in their soul.

Here’s what waiting for miraculous transformation through encountering Jesus actually delivered:

“When Christ appears to you, everything changes in a moment,” the revival evangelist declared with electric intensity. “You’ll experience the miracle of redemption. Choose total obedience, or you’ll sign the death warrant of God’s Son in your soul.”

Jake had hit absolute rock bottom with heroin addiction—stealing from family, lying constantly, living on the streets. His sister brought him to this revival meeting promising instant transformation through encountering Jesus. Surely divine encounter would break his addiction and create immediate obedience to God.

Jake desperately wanted this supernatural transformation. He went forward during the altar call, prayed for Jesus to appear to him, waited for the promised instant change from addict to devoted slave of the Lord. The miracle of redemption would solve what years of struggle couldn’t.

But the miraculous transformation was a cruel fantasy.

Jake left the revival feeling temporarily inspired but returned to using drugs within days. His addiction continued despite multiple spiritual encounters and repeated altar calls. The instant obedience that was supposed to flow from meeting Jesus remained completely absent when he needed it most.

Meanwhile, Jake’s friend Maria approached recovery with zero expectation of miraculous redemption. When Maria’s alcoholism destroyed her marriage and career, she didn’t wait for divine encounters but entered a residential treatment program that addressed addiction as a medical and psychological condition requiring sustained intervention.

Maria’s recovery involved no instant transformation or divine appearances. She worked through the twelve steps with a sponsor, attended daily group therapy, learned practical coping strategies, rebuilt her life gradually through evidence-based treatment and community support.

When Jake finally entered the same treatment program after his third overdose, he discovered that recovery required daily choices, professional guidance, ongoing support—not miraculous transformation through encountering Jesus.

Where was the instant spiritual transformation that meeting Christ was supposed to provide? Where was the miracle of redemption that would create total obedience and break his addiction?

The sustained sobriety that actually worked came through human community and medical intervention, not divine encounters. Jake’s breakthrough came when he stopped waiting for spiritual miracles and started using proven recovery methods that addressed addiction’s neurological and psychological components.

The transformation that mattered wasn’t supernatural but practical—learning to live without substances through human support, evidence-based treatment, and gradual rebuilding of healthy life patterns.

The silence where miraculous redemption was supposed to manifest revealed the truth: there was no divine encounter creating instant obedience. Only human methods and community support that actually worked when consistently applied over time.

Reflection Question: When has gradual change through professional treatment been more effective than seeking instant transformation through spiritual encounters?

This story is part of my upcoming book “The Undevoted: Daily Departures from Divine Dependence,” which offers 365 human-centered alternatives to the spiritual certainties in Chambers’ devotional. Each day explores how reason, community, and human resilience can address life’s challenges without requiring divine intervention.

Effective Communication: A Response to July 17th

This is part of my year-long series exploring human-centered alternatives to the spiritual promises in Oswald Chambers’ classic devotional My Utmost for His Highest. Today’s entry, “The Miracle of Belief”, promises that gospel preaching produces “the miracle of belief” through “the sheer, unaided power of God” rather than human eloquence, claiming that preachers who avoid impressive speech allow “the power of the redemption” to flow through them and that Jesus being “lifted up” will “draw all people” to himself.

Here’s what relying on divine power instead of human communication skills actually delivered:

“Don’t rely on eloquence or personality,” his seminary professor warned earnestly. “The sheer, unaided power of God produces belief through simple gospel preaching. Avoid anything that might hinder God’s word from flowing through you. Let the creative power of redemption do its work.”

Pastor Tom felt called to plant a new church and embraced this approach completely. Instead of developing engaging sermon delivery or connecting personally with potential members, he focused solely on presenting biblical content without embellishment. He deliberately avoided charisma or persuasive techniques, believing that God’s power would draw people to himself through plain gospel proclamation.

For months, Tom preached to nearly empty rooms, convinced that his lack of eloquence was allowing divine power to work unhindered. When visitors didn’t return, he attributed it to spiritual resistance rather than his ineffective communication. The miracle of belief would occur once people heard the unadorned gospel message.

But the promised divine drawing power was completely absent.

Tom’s church plant failed to grow despite his faithful avoidance of human persuasion techniques. His plain delivery and lack of personal connection actually prevented people from engaging with his message. The creative power of redemption that was supposed to work through simple preaching was nowhere to be found.

Meanwhile, Tom’s friend Pastor Maria approached church planting with zero expectation of divine power bypassing human communication skills. Maria worked systematically to develop effective preaching, built genuine relationships with community members, addressed practical needs alongside spiritual topics.

Maria’s approach included exactly what Chambers warned against—using her natural personality, developing persuasive communication skills, connecting personally with people. She didn’t avoid eloquence but cultivated it to serve her message more effectively.

When Maria’s church thrived while Tom’s failed, he felt spiritually confused. Had he been too faithful to avoiding human techniques? Was his lack of charisma somehow hindering God’s power rather than allowing it?

Where was the sheer, unaided power of God that was supposed to produce belief through simple preaching? Where was the creative power of redemption that would work when human personality was removed?

Tom’s breakthrough came when he realized that effective communication required human skills, not divine bypassing of personality and eloquence. The people who connected with Maria’s ministry weren’t drawn by miraculous divine power but by her authentic relationships and relevant teaching.

The silence where God’s miracle of belief was supposed to manifest revealed the truth: there was no divine power working through plain preaching. Only human communication skills and genuine relationships that actually connected with people’s real needs and interests.

Reflection Question: When has developing your natural communication abilities been more effective than trying to remove personality from your message?

Genuine Service: A Response to July 15th

This is part of my year-long series exploring human-centered alternatives to the spiritual promises in Oswald Chambers’ classic devotional My Utmost for His Highest. Today’s entry, “Spiritual Honor”, promises that believers can develop an “overwhelming sense of indebtedness to Jesus Christ” that creates spiritual obligation to evangelize everyone, claiming that recognizing you were “bought at a price” creates spiritual honor compelling believers to become “broken bread and poured-out wine” for Christ.

Here’s what spiritual obligation to evangelize everyone actually delivered:

“You owe Jesus everything,” the evangelism leader declared emphatically. “Every bit of your life’s value comes from his redemption. The spiritual honor of your life is to pay this debt by preaching to everyone—wise and foolish, believer and unbeliever. You must become broken bread and poured-out wine for him.”

Michael embraced this framework of spiritual indebtedness completely. He felt overwhelming obligation to evangelize everyone he encountered—coworkers, neighbors, family members, even strangers in coffee shops. His sense of being “bought at a price” drove him to see every conversation as opportunity to manifest Christ’s redemption in others’ lives.

For months, Michael spent himself in constant evangelistic activity. He joined every outreach program, participated in street evangelism, pressured friends and family to accept Jesus. His spiritual honor demanded that he become an “absolute slave” to this gospel obligation, regardless of how others responded.

But the promised spiritual fulfillment was a relationship-destroying disaster.

Michael’s relationships deteriorated as people began avoiding his constant evangelistic pressure. His family members stopped inviting him to gatherings because every interaction became gospel presentation. His coworkers complained to HR about his inappropriate workplace proselytizing. The spiritual debt he was trying to pay was destroying his ability to actually love people.

Meanwhile, Michael’s friend Carlos approached helping others with zero motivation from spiritual indebtedness. As a social worker, Carlos didn’t feel gospel obligation requiring evangelistic payback but simply wanted to address practical needs in his community. He volunteered with homeless services, tutored struggling students, advocated for immigrant families.

Carlos’s service wasn’t driven by obligation to spiritual creditor but by genuine compassion and professional calling. He didn’t see people as evangelistic targets but as human beings deserving dignity and practical support. His help came without strings attached or hidden evangelistic agendas.

When Michael’s evangelistic zeal finally destroyed his relationship with his teenage son—who refused to speak to him after months of relentless gospel pressure—he realized his spiritual obligation had damaged rather than demonstrated Christ’s love.

Where was the spiritual honor that was supposed to come from paying his debt to Jesus? Where was the freedom that came from being an absolute slave to evangelistic obligation?

Michael’s breakthrough came when he stopped trying to pay spiritual debt through evangelism and started simply caring for people without evangelistic expectations. The meaningful service that actually helped others came through listening to their real needs rather than imposing his spiritual agenda.

The silence where spiritual fulfillment was supposed to emerge from evangelistic obligation revealed the truth: there was no debt to Jesus requiring payment through constant preaching. Only human relationships that deserved respect and genuine care without religious manipulation.

Reflection Question: When has serving others without evangelistic expectations been more effective than feeling obligated to share your faith with everyone?

Honoring Memory: A Response to July 13th

This is part of my year-long series exploring human-centered alternatives to the spiritual promises in Oswald Chambers’ classic devotional My Utmost for His Highest. Today’s entry, “The Price of Vision”, promises that God deliberately removes human heroes and relationships (our “King Uzziahs”) so he can take his rightful place in believers’ lives, claiming that the ability to “see God” depends on character purification through loss.

Here’s what seeking divine vision through accepting loss as purification actually delivered:

“God had to remove your King Uzziah so he could take his rightful place in your life,” her grief counselor at church explained with spiritual certainty. “Your ability to see the Lord depends on your character. This loss is God’s way of purifying you so that nothing else matters except him.”

Jessica had lost her mentor and close friend Dr. Patricia in a car accident. The grief felt like drowning in concrete, but spiritual guidance promised that accepting this loss as divine character-building would lead to greater spiritual vision and divine revelation.

Jessica tried desperately to embrace this framework for her devastating grief. Instead of allowing herself to fully mourn Dr. Patricia’s death, she searched for signs that God was revealing himself through the loss. She forced herself to see the tragedy as divine purification rather than random accident that had taken someone precious.

For months, Jessica suppressed her anger and sorrow, believing these emotions revealed inadequate spiritual character. She told herself that grieving too deeply meant she’d made Dr. Patricia an idol. The promised divine vision would come once she learned to seek “none but God” through accepting this spiritual purification process.

But the spiritual vision was a grief-destroying lie.

Instead of seeing God more clearly through the loss, Jessica became increasingly depressed and spiritually numb. The attempt to view her friend’s death as divine character-building felt like betrayal of their relationship and dismissal of genuine grief. No divine revelation emerged from trying to minimize her human attachments.

Meanwhile, Jessica’s coworker Mark approached his own loss with zero expectation of divine vision through character purification. When his father died unexpectedly, Mark didn’t interpret the death as God removing a human hero but as natural tragedy requiring human support and professional help.

Mark sought grief counseling, joined a bereavement support group, allowed himself to feel the full impact of losing someone irreplaceable. His healing process involved honoring his father’s memory while rebuilding life around the permanent absence.

Where was the divine vision that was supposed to come through accepting loss as God’s purification? Where was the spiritual character-building that would make “none but God” important?

When Jessica finally abandoned the spiritual interpretation of her loss and sought actual grief counseling, she learned that healthy mourning honors rather than minimizes important relationships. The vision that actually helped wasn’t seeing God through character purification but seeing her grief as natural response to losing someone deeply loved.

Jessica’s breakthrough came through memorializing Dr. Patricia’s mentorship by establishing a scholarship fund for women in medicine. The meaning she found didn’t require God removing human heroes but came through celebrating and continuing Dr. Patricia’s impact on others’ lives.

The silence where divine revelation was supposed to emerge through loss revealed the truth: there was no spiritual vision waiting behind grief. Only human love that deserved honor and human grief that required support, not spiritual interpretation.

Reflection Question: When has honoring and continuing someone’s legacy been more healing than viewing their loss as divine character-building?

Practical Community: A Response to July 12th

This is part of my year-long series exploring human-centered alternatives to the spiritual promises in Oswald Chambers’ classic devotional My Utmost for His Highest. Today’s entry, “The Spiritual Society”, promises that believers can “reach unity in the faith” and realize Jesus Christ in their shared church life, claiming that focusing on relationship with Christ naturally builds up the “body of Christ” and creates unified spiritual community.

Here’s what seeking unity through shared spiritual focus actually delivered:

“We’re here to realize Jesus Christ in our shared life,” Pastor David proclaimed confidently. “Focus on your relationship with Christ, and you’ll naturally build up the body. Our goal is God himself, not personal benefits. This spiritual focus will create the unified community Christ intends.”

His congregation embraced this vision of spiritual society enthusiastically. Members committed to prioritizing their relationship with Jesus above personal preferences and organizational concerns. They established prayer groups, accountability partnerships, worship experiences designed to foster unity through shared spiritual focus.

But the promised spiritual society was a community-destroying delusion.

Despite intense focus on Christ-centered relationships, the church remained bitterly divided over worship styles, budget priorities, leadership decisions. Members who claimed to prioritize God above personal desires still lobbied aggressively for their preferred programs and approaches. The unity that was supposed to emerge from shared faith never materialized.

Meanwhile, the Unitarian congregation across town approached community building with zero expectation of spiritual unity through religious focus. They worked systematically to create inclusive, functional community through clear communication processes, conflict resolution procedures, and decision-making structures that honored diverse perspectives.

The Unitarians didn’t claim to realize Christ in their shared life but focused on practical values like justice, compassion, mutual respect. Their community building involved extensive listening sessions, demographic analysis, intentional efforts to include marginalized voices in leadership.

When Pastor David’s church split over the worship leader’s contemporary music preferences, he felt devastated. How could people focused on their relationship with Christ become so divided over practical matters? The spiritual society he’d envisioned had fractured despite everyone’s commitment to putting God first.

Where was the unity in faith that shared spiritual focus was supposed to create? Where was the body of Christ that would emerge from prioritizing relationship with Jesus?

The Unitarian congregation had successfully navigated multiple challenging decisions through their systematic approach to community building. Their unity wasn’t based on shared spiritual focus but on agreed-upon processes for working through differences respectfully.

David’s breakthrough came when he realized that effective community required practical skills—communication, compromise, project management, conflict resolution—not just spiritual commitment. The unity that actually worked came through human effort and organizational competence, not through shared religious devotion.

The silence where spiritual society was supposed to emerge revealed the truth: there was no divine unity waiting to be realized through faith. Only human community-building skills that actually worked when consistently applied to real organizational challenges.

Reflection Question: When has practical community-building been more effective than expecting spiritual unity to emerge from shared religious focus?

Strategic Work: A Response to July 11th

This is part of my year-long series exploring human-centered alternatives to the spiritual promises in Oswald Chambers’ classic devotional My Utmost for His Highest. Today’s entry, “The Spiritual Saint”, promises that “spiritual saints” can know Jesus Christ and realize his life “in any and every circumstance” through “reckless abandonment,” viewing every moment as a “God-sent opportunity for gaining knowledge of Christ” and manifesting their Lord even through menial tasks.

Here’s what seeking to know Christ through reckless abandonment to circumstances actually delivered:

“Don’t view this as just work,” her small group leader encouraged earnestly. “See every moment as God-sent opportunity to know Christ. Enthrone Jesus in your cleaning work. The Holy Spirit will help you manifest him through even menial tasks.”

Maria had taken a job cleaning office buildings to support her family after her husband’s disability left them financially desperate. Working night shifts scrubbing toilets and emptying trash felt degrading after her previous career as a teacher, but spiritual guidance promised transformation through embracing these circumstances as divine opportunities.

Maria tried desperately to see each menial task as spiritual advancement. She prayed while mopping floors, seeking to know Christ through her circumstances. Surely this humbling work was God’s way of developing her spiritual sainthood through reckless abandonment to whatever he sent her way.

But the promised spiritual realization was cruel self-deception.

Long hours of physical labor left Maria exhausted rather than spiritually enriched. The repetitive, isolating work provided zero meaningful connection to Christ or divine purpose. Her attempts to enthrone Jesus in cleaning tasks felt forced and hollow when facing inadequate wages and exploitative working conditions.

Meanwhile, Maria’s coworker Carmen approached the same job with zero expectation of spiritual transformation through menial labor. Carmen saw cleaning work as temporary necessity while completing her nursing degree at night. She didn’t seek to manifest Christ through toilet scrubbing but focused on earning money for education and supporting her children.

Carmen used work time efficiently, took breaks when needed, advocated with their supervisor for better supplies and safer cleaning chemicals. She didn’t view every circumstance as God-sent opportunity but as situations requiring practical responses and strategic planning.

When Maria developed chronic back pain from inadequate equipment and poor working conditions, her small group leader suggested she wasn’t truly embracing the spiritual opportunity. But Carmen helped Maria understand their rights as workers and connected her with a union representative who actually improved their working conditions.

Where was the knowledge of Christ that was supposed to come through reckless abandonment to circumstances? Where was the Holy Spirit manifesting Jesus through menial work?

Maria’s breakthrough came when she stopped trying to find Christ in exploitative work and started using her job strategically to fund her return to education. The meaningful purpose she sought didn’t come through spiritual sainthood but through treating work as means to achieve realistic goals.

The knowledge of Christ that actually sustained Maria came through her church’s social justice ministry, where she worked to improve conditions for low-wage workers—not through trying to spiritualize her own exploitation.

The silence where divine opportunity was supposed to manifest revealed the truth: there was no spiritual realization to be found in accepting exploitation as God-sent. Only strategic action and collective organizing that actually created change.

Reflection Question: When has treating work strategically rather than seeking spiritual meaning in all circumstances been more effective for achieving your goals?

Sustainable Ministry: A Response to July 10th

This is part of my year-long series exploring human-centered alternatives to the spiritual promises in Oswald Chambers’ classic devotional My Utmost for His Highest. Today’s entry, “The Spiritual Sluggard”, promises that believers can overcome “spiritual sluggishness” through community encouragement and “Christ-realization,” claiming that true spirituality involves actively engaging with life’s injustices and difficulties rather than retreating into prayer and Bible study for comfort.

Here’s what avoiding spiritual sluggishness through constant engagement actually delivered:

“Don’t retreat into comfortable Bible study,” his mentor warned firmly. “The test of your spirituality is engaging with injustice and turmoil. You need Christ-realization, not self-realization. Let others stir you up for spiritual activity.”

Pastor Michael felt increasingly drained by his congregation’s constant conflicts and complaints, but spiritual guidance demanded he push through rather than step back. Avoiding spiritual sluggishness meant staying engaged with every crisis, every criticism, every church conflict as opportunities for spiritual growth.

Michael forced himself to remain engaged despite growing exhaustion. When church members criticized his sermons, he saw it as spiritual testing. When board meetings devolved into personal attacks, he interpreted it as opportunity for Christ-realization. When families left over petty disagreements, he viewed it as a call to greater spiritual initiative.

For months, Michael avoided what Chambers called “spiritual sluggishness” by refusing to step back and assess the situation objectively. He didn’t seek counseling or take sabbatical time, viewing such self-care as spiritual retreat. He continued forcing himself into the “rough-and-tumble” of church conflict, believing this demonstrated authentic spirituality.

But the promised spiritual vitality was a devastating lie.

Instead of manifesting the life of Jesus Christ, Michael developed severe anxiety and depression. His marriage suffered as he brought constant stress home. His children began avoiding him because he was always irritable and overwhelmed. The spiritual engagement that was supposed to energize him was destroying his capacity to function.

Meanwhile, his friend Pastor Sarah approached ministry burnout with zero expectation of spiritual breakthroughs through constant engagement. When Sarah recognized signs of compassion fatigue, she didn’t interpret it as spiritual failure requiring more activity. She sought professional counseling, took a planned sabbatical, worked with her board to establish healthier boundaries.

Sarah’s approach included exactly what Chambers warned against—stepping back from immediate ministry demands to gain perspective and restore emotional resources. She used prayer and reflection not to stir herself up for more activity but to process experiences and regain balance.

When Michael finally collapsed from exhaustion and was hospitalized for stress-related symptoms, he realized his spiritual approach had been destroying rather than building his capacity for ministry.

Where was the Christ-realization that was supposed to energize him through difficult engagement? Where was the spiritual vitality that constant activity was meant to produce?

Sarah’s supposedly “sluggish” approach of self-care and professional boundaries had actually sustained her ability to serve others long-term while Michael’s spiritual engagement had burned him out completely.

The breakthrough came when Michael stopped interpreting self-care as spiritual failure and started treating ministry as sustainable work requiring rest, reflection, and professional development.

The silence where spiritual vitality was supposed to flow through constant engagement revealed the truth: there was no divine energy for endless spiritual activity. Only human limits that required respect and care to maintain long-term effectiveness.

Reflection Question: When has taking time for self-care and reflection been more sustainable than forcing yourself to remain constantly engaged with difficult situations?

Actual Strength: A Response to July 9th

This is part of my year-long series exploring human-centered alternatives to the spiritual promises in Oswald Chambers’ classic devotional My Utmost for His Highest. Today’s entry, “The Great Examination”, promises that believers can achieve complete reliance on God alone by eliminating all trust in “natural virtue” or circumstances, claiming that God’s “almighty power” will work through those who are “right with him” and that “the weaker you are, the better.”

Here’s what complete reliance on God’s almighty power actually delivered:

“You need rigorous self-examination,” her pastor counseled earnestly. “Are you relying on yourself in any way? God’s almighty power will work through you if you put yourself in the proper place. The weaker you are, the better. Do you truly believe God will manifest his wonderful life through you?”

Amanda’s marriage was disintegrating after her husband’s affair. Instead of seeking practical help, she was offered spiritual dependency as the solution. Complete reliance on God alone would trigger divine intervention in her marriage crisis.

Amanda embraced this framework desperately. She avoided marriage counseling or legal advice, focused on eliminating all reliance on her own judgment or circumstances. She prayed for miraculous restoration, believing that complete dependence on God would produce supernatural marriage healing.

For months, Amanda avoided practical steps that might indicate self-reliance. She didn’t consult attorneys about divorce proceedings, didn’t protect financial assets, didn’t discuss custody arrangements. Such actions would demonstrate lack of faith in God’s ability to restore her marriage supernaturally.

But the promised divine manifestation was a devastating delusion.

Amanda’s husband continued his affair, moved out, filed for divorce. Her spiritual weakness and complete reliance on God produced zero miraculous intervention. The “almighty power” that was supposed to work through her surrender was entirely absent when she needed it most.

Meanwhile, Amanda’s friend Lisa approached her own marital crisis with zero expectation of divine intervention. When Lisa discovered her husband’s gambling addiction, she didn’t wait for God’s almighty power or examine her spiritual condition. She immediately sought professional help from addiction specialists, financial advisors, family therapists.

Lisa’s approach included significant “reliance on natural virtue and circumstances”—she trusted professional expertise, legal protection, evidence-based treatment approaches. She didn’t expect God’s power to work through her weakness but used her intelligence and resources to address the crisis practically.

When Amanda’s divorce became final, she felt like a complete spiritual failure. Had her unbelief prevented miraculous restoration? Was her reliance insufficient? Her pastor suggested she hadn’t truly surrendered, but Amanda knew she’d sacrificed everything for divine intervention that never came.

Where was God’s almighty power that was supposed to work through her weakness? Where was the divine manifestation that complete reliance was meant to produce?

Amanda’s breakthrough came when she stopped waiting for God to manifest through her weakness and started using her actual strengths and resources. She returned to college, rebuilt her career, created stable life for her children through practical planning and professional support.

The power that actually transformed Amanda’s situation wasn’t divine almighty power working through spiritual weakness but human capability channeled through education, career development, and community support.

The silence where God’s wonderful life was supposed to manifest revealed the truth: there was no almighty power waiting to work through spiritual weakness. Only human strength and professional resources that actually solved problems when properly utilized.

Reflection Question: When has relying on your actual strengths and professional resources been more effective than seeking divine power through spiritual weakness?

Thoughtful Transition: A Response to July 8th

This is part of my year-long series exploring human-centered alternatives to the spiritual promises in Oswald Chambers’ classic devotional My Utmost for His Highest. Today’s entry, “The Will to Loyalty”, promises that believers can exercise their will to achieve complete loyalty to Jesus Christ, claiming that serving God is a “deliberate choice” that puts everything “on hold until you choose” and that God will “explain himself” to those who choose loyalty without consulting human beings.

Here’s what willing to be loyal without human consultation actually delivered:

“You must will to obey,” his spiritual mentor urged intensely. “Don’t consult human beings about this decision—it’s between you and God. Choose loyalty to Jesus, and he’ll explain himself to you. Put everything on hold until you choose to serve the Lord deliberately.”

David felt called to leave his engineering career and become a pastor. Despite his wife’s concerns about their family’s financial security and his own doubts about pastoral gifting, the spiritual framework seemed clear: dramatic loyalty choices demonstrated true commitment to Jesus.

David resigned from his lucrative engineering position. He wouldn’t “consult any human being” about this spiritual decision. His loyalty to Jesus required ignoring practical concerns and human counsel. God would explain himself once David demonstrated complete willingness to obey.

But the promised divine explanation was a cruel mirage.

Instead of clarity about God’s direction, David experienced mounting confusion and anxiety. His family struggled financially while he attended seminary part-time. His pastoral internship revealed significant gaps in his people skills and theological knowledge. The vision of ministry that had seemed so clear began to feel like self-deception.

Meanwhile, David’s colleague Sarah approached a major career transition with zero expectation of divine calling or loyalty demands. When Sarah felt drawn to educational work, she researched education careers thoroughly, spoke with teachers and administrators, volunteered in classrooms, gradually transitioned while maintaining financial stability.

Sarah’s decision-making process included extensive “consultation with human beings”—education professionals, career counselors, family members, financial advisors. She didn’t put everything “on hold” but made measured steps toward educational work while honoring practical responsibilities.

When David’s pastoral internship ended unsuccessfully, he felt like a complete spiritual failure. Had he misunderstood God’s will? Was his loyalty insufficient? His mentor suggested David hadn’t truly surrendered self-interest, but David knew he’d sacrificed everything for what he believed was divine calling.

Where was God’s explanation that was supposed to come through loyal obedience? Where was the divine clarity that choosing loyalty was meant to provide?

David’s breakthrough came when he stopped waiting for God to explain himself and started honestly evaluating his actual gifts and interests. He returned to engineering but found ways to serve others through technical volunteer work and mentoring young engineers.

His meaningful service didn’t require abandoning practical concerns or claiming divine loyalty. Sarah’s thoughtful career transition succeeded because she’d consulted widely, planned carefully, made gradual changes that honored both her interests and responsibilities.

Her loyalty was to sustainable service rather than dramatic spiritual commitment that ignored practical wisdom and family needs.

The silence where God was supposed to explain himself revealed the truth: there was no divine direction requiring loyalty choices that bypassed human consultation. Only thoughtful planning and realistic assessment that actually led to sustainable, meaningful work.

Reflection Question: When has careful consultation and gradual transition been more effective than making dramatic loyalty choices based on claimed divine calling?

Practical Preparation: A Response to July 7th

This is part of my year-long series exploring human-centered alternatives to the spiritual promises in Oswald Chambers’ classic devotional My Utmost for His Highest. Today’s entry, “All Noble Things Are Difficult”, promises that believers who embrace the “gloriously difficult” Christian life will discover they “have all the strength and resources” needed through God’s grace, claiming that practicing daily obedience creates spiritual preparedness that supports believers during crises.

Here’s what the gloriously difficult Christian life actually delivered during real crisis:

“The Christian life is gloriously difficult,” his discipleship leader explained earnestly. “God gives us difficult things to do because his salvation is heroic and holy. If you practice daily obedience, you’ll discover you have all the strength and resources needed to succeed. God’s grace produces people with strong family likeness to Jesus Christ.”

Martin embraced this intensive spiritual program with complete dedication. Five AM prayer and Bible study, regular fasting, Scripture memorization, extensive volunteering despite his demanding job. When the disciplines felt overwhelming, he reminded himself that all noble things are difficult and that God’s grace would provide the strength he needed.

For months, Martin felt sustained by spiritual intensity and the camaraderie of other committed disciples. He believed the daily practices were building spiritual muscle that would support him during life’s crises. Surely his devotion was creating the heroic character that God’s salvation promised to produce.

But when Martin’s father was diagnosed with aggressive cancer, his spiritual preparedness was completely useless.

The crisis revealed not divine strength but crushing anxiety, spiritual doubt, emotional overwhelm. His disciplined Christian life hadn’t prepared him for the helplessness of watching his father suffer and decline. The strength and resources God was supposed to provide were nowhere to be found when actually needed.

Meanwhile, Martin’s secular colleague Elena approached her mother’s cancer diagnosis with zero expectation of divine strength or heroic spiritual character. Instead, she researched treatment options, connected with cancer support organizations, arranged family medical leave, sought counseling to process grief and fear.

Elena’s preparation wasn’t spiritual discipline but practical preparation for the realities of serious illness. She learned to navigate medical systems, communicate with healthcare providers, manage caregiver stress through evidence-based strategies rather than devotional practices.

When Martin’s spiritual disciplines proved worthless for actual crisis, he felt like a complete spiritual failure. Where was the strength and resources God was supposed to provide? Where was the heroic character that difficult Christian living was meant to produce?

Martin’s breakthrough came when he abandoned the spiritual approach and followed Elena’s example, seeking practical support. Cancer caregiving required medical knowledge, emotional processing skills, community resources—not spiritual heroism or divine empowerment.

The noble life that actually sustained Martin through his father’s illness wasn’t disciplined devotion to Jesus but compassionate presence supported by professional guidance, family cooperation, and realistic expectations about terminal illness challenges.

Where was God’s grace that was supposed to rally him to overcome? Where was the spiritual preparedness that daily obedience was meant to create?

The silence where divine strength was supposed to manifest revealed the truth: there was no supernatural empowerment for life’s difficulties. Only human preparation, professional guidance, and community support that actually worked when crisis hit.

The gloriously difficult Christian life had been gloriously useless when difficulty became real.

Reflection Question: When have practical preparation and professional guidance been more helpful than spiritual discipline for handling life’s serious crises?