Undevoted – Page 5 – God or Delusion?

Realistic Goals: A Response to July 6th

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, “Vision and Reality”, promises that God gives believers visions of what he wants them to become, then guides them through divine preparation to “batter” them into shape, claiming “every vision will be made real if we have patience” and that believers will turn out “exactly in accordance with the vision.”

Here’s what waiting for God’s vision to become reality actually delivered:

“He’ll take you through preparation in the valley of humiliation,” her pastor assured confidently. “God will batter you into shape for this calling. Trust the process—every vision will be made real if you have patience. You’ll turn out exactly according to God’s vision.”

Rachel felt called to become a missionary doctor serving in Africa. This vision seemed so clear, so compelling, so obviously divine that she never questioned whether it matched her actual abilities. God had given her this calling, and he would make it reality through his shaping process.

When medical school proved more challenging than expected, Rachel interpreted academic struggles as God’s battering process. When she failed the MCAT twice, she saw this as divine preparation in the valley. Surely God was shaping her for eventual success in fulfilling his vision for her life.

Years crawled by with repeated setbacks. Rachel couldn’t gain admission to medical school despite multiple applications. Her grades weren’t competitive, test scores remained below admission standards. But her pastor encouraged patience, reminding her that God was never in a hurry and the vision would become reality when she was properly shaped.

Meanwhile, Rachel’s friend David pursued medicine with zero expectation of divine vision fulfillment. When David struggled academically, he changed study methods, sought tutoring, honestly assessed his abilities. He didn’t interpret failures as divine battering but as feedback requiring practical adjustments.

David’s honest self-assessment led him to pursue physician assistant training instead of medical school. This path matched his actual abilities while still fulfilling his desire to provide medical care. He didn’t need God’s vision to become reality—he created realistic goals based on his strengths and worked systematically toward achieving them.

When Rachel finally acknowledged that medical school might not happen, she felt like a spiritual failure. Had she misheard God’s vision? Was she resisting the potter’s wheel? Her pastor suggested she wasn’t being patient enough with God’s shaping process.

Where was the divine vision that was supposed to become reality through patient endurance? Where was God’s battering that would shape her for the calling?

Rachel’s breakthrough came when she stopped waiting for divine vision fulfillment and started pursuing goals that matched her actual abilities. She became a public health educator, using her science background to promote community wellness.

Her meaningful work didn’t require God’s vision—just practical assessment of her skills and interests. The “vision” that proved sustainable was David’s realistic career planning based on honest self-evaluation, not Rachel’s supposed divine calling.

The battering she’d experienced wasn’t divine shaping but the natural consequence of pursuing goals that exceeded her abilities while expecting supernatural assistance instead of developing practical strategies.

The silence where God’s potter’s wheel was supposed to be working revealed the truth: there was no divine vision requiring patience to fulfill. Only human dreams that needed realistic assessment and practical planning to become achievable goals.

Reflection Question: When has honest self-assessment and realistic goal-setting been more effective than waiting for divine visions to become reality?

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.

Financial Reality: A Response to July 4th

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, “Don’t Calculate without God”, promises that believers who “bring God in as the greatest factor” in all calculations will avoid worry and have their plans succeed, claiming that trusting Jesus means you “can’t set aside for a rainy day” and that God will “make your righteous reward shine like the dawn.”

Here’s what calculating with God as the greatest factor actually delivered:

“Don’t calculate without God,” their church financial counselor advised earnestly. “Bring him in as the greatest factor in all your financial decisions. Trust completely—you can’t set aside for rainy days if you’re truly following Jesus. God will make your righteous reward shine when you commit your way to him.”

Lisa and Mark were drowning in credit card debt while facing an increasingly uncertain job market. But instead of practical financial planning, they were offered spiritual financial advice. Such faithful trust would surely trigger divine provision and economic blessing.

They took this guidance seriously. Instead of creating an emergency fund or reducing expenses, they continued tithing faithfully and avoided “calculating with evil in view” by planning for potential job loss or medical emergencies. Such preparation would demonstrate lack of trust in God’s provision.

They committed their financial way to the Lord and waited for divine blessing.

But the promised divine intervention was a financial catastrophe.

When Mark lost his job during company restructuring, they had zero emergency savings despite months of mounting financial stress. Their “righteous reward” didn’t shine like the dawn—instead, they faced eviction, crushing bills, destroyed credit. The calculations that excluded practical planning for difficulties proved financially disastrous.

Meanwhile, their neighbors Carlos and Elena approached financial uncertainty with zero expectation of divine provision. They didn’t expect God to replace careful planning. Carlos worked extra shifts while Elena took freelance projects, building an emergency fund covering six months of expenses. They reduced unnecessary spending and researched backup career options.

Carlos and Elena’s approach included “calculating with evil in view”—they planned for job loss, medical emergencies, economic downturns. Their financial decisions weren’t based on religious trust but on practical assessment of risks and preparation for contingencies.

When the same company layoffs affected Carlos, his family weathered the crisis successfully. Their emergency fund covered expenses while Carlos retrained for a different field. They didn’t need divine intervention because they’d prepared for exactly this scenario through human foresight and disciplined saving.

Where was God as the greatest factor in Lisa and Mark’s financial calculations? Where was the righteous reward that was supposed to shine like the dawn?

Lisa and Mark’s breakthrough came when they abandoned spiritual financial principles and started working with a secular financial advisor. Instead of trusting God to provide, they created realistic budgets, built emergency savings, planned for potential setbacks.

Their financial recovery came through human effort and practical planning, not divine blessing. The “righteous reward” that actually helped was Carlos and Elena’s emergency fund and backup plans—created through human wisdom, not spiritual trust.

The silence where God’s provision was supposed to manifest revealed the truth: there was no divine factor that could replace practical financial planning. Only human preparation and realistic risk assessment that actually protected families during economic uncertainty.

Reflection Question: When has practical financial planning been more reliable than trusting divine provision for economic security?

Productive Concern: A Response to July 5th

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, “One of God’s Great Don’ts”, promises that believers can achieve a disposition that makes worrying impossible through “perfect confidence in the Father,” claiming that fretting is “wicked” for Christians and that taking God “into calculations as the biggest factor” eliminates anxiety even during crises.

Here’s what trying to eliminate worry through spiritual confidence actually delivered:

“Worry is wicked for believers,” her prayer group leader insisted firmly. “You need to rest in the Lord with perfect confidence. Deliberately tell God you won’t worry. Take him into your calculations as the biggest factor, and your disposition won’t allow anxiety.”

Maria’s seventeen-year-old son Diego had just been diagnosed with Type 1 diabetes. The learning curve was terrifying—carb counting, insulin ratios, blood sugar monitoring, recognizing symptoms of dangerous highs and lows. But instead of embracing this necessary concern, Maria was told her maternal anxiety was spiritual failure.

She tried desperately to achieve the promised worry-free state. When anxious about Diego’s blood sugar management, she confessed it as sin and commanded herself to rest in the Lord. When she worried about his future complications, she prayed to stop fretting and trust God’s sovereignty.

Surely perfect confidence in the Father would eliminate her maternal anxiety.

But the promised spiritual serenity was completely unreachable when her child’s life was literally at stake.

Maria’s worry intensified despite constant prayer and self-rebuke. When Diego had severe hypoglycemic episodes, her fear was overwhelming regardless of spiritual efforts. The disposition that supposedly wouldn’t allow worry felt like cruel religious fantasy when facing real medical emergencies.

Meanwhile, her friend Carmen approached her daughter’s chronic illness with zero expectation of divine worry-elimination. When Carmen’s daughter was diagnosed with juvenile arthritis, Carmen didn’t try to achieve worry-free disposition through spiritual confidence.

Instead, Carmen educated herself thoroughly about the condition, connected with other parents through support groups, worked closely with medical specialists. Her approach wasn’t about eliminating anxiety but channeling concern into productive action. She worried appropriately while taking concrete steps to ensure the best possible care.

When Diego experienced a dangerous diabetic emergency at school, Maria’s “perfect confidence in the Father” disintegrated completely. Her spiritual efforts to avoid fretting had prevented her from learning crucial diabetes management skills that could have prevented the crisis.

Carmen’s supposedly “wicked” worry had prepared her to handle her daughter’s medical needs competently.

Where was the perfect confidence that was supposed to make worrying impossible? Where was God as the biggest factor eliminating anxiety during medical crises?

Maria’s breakthrough came when she stopped trying to eliminate worry through spiritual discipline and started using maternal concern constructively. She took diabetes education classes, learned to interpret blood glucose data, connected with other diabetes families for practical support.

The peace that actually helped came not from resting in the Lord but from becoming competent in diabetes management. Her worry transformed from spiritual failure into parental wisdom when directed toward practical preparation and medical education.

The silence where God’s perfect confidence was supposed to replace anxiety revealed the truth: there was no divine factor that could eliminate appropriate parental concern about a child’s serious medical condition. Only human competence and community support that actually protected her son’s health.

Reflection Question: When has channeling worry into productive action been more helpful than trying to eliminate anxiety through spiritual confidence?

Professional Assessment: A Response to July 3rd

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 Concentration of Personal Sin”, promises that being in God’s presence creates specific conviction about concentrated sin, claiming the Spirit will point out definite sins and lead to deeper conviction, with God then sending “cleansing fire” to purify the precise location of sin.

Here’s what seeking divine conviction about concentrated sin actually delivered:

“When you’re truly in God’s presence, you’ll experience specific conviction about particular sins,” the spiritual formation leader explained confidently. “The Spirit will point out definite areas where sin is concentrated, then God will send cleansing fire to purify you. This is how spiritual growth happens—through precise divine conviction and purification.”

Jennifer desperately wanted this supernatural experience of conviction and cleansing. During extended prayer sessions and retreats, she searched for the specific sin God was supposedly revealing. When troubled by particular thoughts or behaviors, she interpreted this as the Spirit pointing out concentrated sin requiring divine purification.

She confessed pride, selfishness, doubt, countless other potential sins, waiting for God’s cleansing fire to purify the exact areas of spiritual contamination. Each confession felt like progress toward the deeper conviction that would reveal “the great disposition of sin” underneath her surface failures.

But the promised divine purification was a psychological trap.

Instead of experiencing God’s cleansing fire, Jennifer developed obsessive spiritual scrupulosity. She became hypervigilant about potential sins, constantly analyzing her motives and behaviors for evidence of concentrated spiritual corruption. The pursuit of specific divine conviction created crushing anxiety rather than spiritual peace.

Meanwhile, her friend Carlos approached personal growth with zero expectation of supernatural conviction. When Carlos struggled with anger management and relationship patterns, he didn’t seek divine revelation about concentrated sin. He worked with a counselor to identify specific behavioral triggers and develop healthier responses through cognitive-behavioral techniques.

Carlos didn’t expect divine purification through cleansing fire. He used practical strategies—mindfulness training, communication skills practice, regular therapy sessions—to address problematic patterns. His improvement came through consistent human effort and professional guidance, not divine intervention.

When Jennifer finally sought therapy for her spiritual anxiety, her counselor helped her understand that obsessive self-examination for sin was creating psychological distress rather than spiritual growth.

Where was the Spirit’s precise conviction about concentrated sin? Where was God’s cleansing fire that was supposed to purify specific areas of spiritual contamination?

The “concentrated sin” she’d been desperately seeking was actually healthy human emotions and normal psychological processes that didn’t require divine purification. Her hypervigilance about spiritual corruption was textbook religious scrupulosity—a form of OCD, not spiritual sensitivity.

Jennifer’s breakthrough came when she stopped waiting for God to reveal and cleanse specific sins and started addressing her actual mental health needs through evidence-based treatment. The peace she’d sought through divine conviction came through learning to accept herself as an imperfect but worthy human being.

The “cleansing fire” that actually helped wasn’t supernatural purification but therapeutic techniques that addressed her scrupulosity and anxiety. The precision she’d expected from divine conviction came through professional assessment and treatment, not spiritual experience.

The silence where God’s specific conviction was supposed to manifest revealed the truth: there was no Spirit pointing out concentrated sin. Only human psychology that could be understood and treated through professional care, not divine purification.

Reflection Question: When has professional therapy been more effective than seeking divine conviction for addressing specific behavioral or emotional patterns?

Sustainable Devotion: A Response to July 2nd

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 Conditions of Discipleship”, promises that true discipleship requires “passionate devotion” to Jesus that supersedes family relationships, claiming the Holy Spirit imparts supernatural love that makes believers “blaze and glow with devotion” and creates “moral originality” through abandonment to God.

Here’s what blazing devotion through family abandonment actually produced:

“If your family relationships clash with Jesus’s claims, you must choose instant obedience to him,” Pastor Derek explained to his young adult ministry. “The Holy Spirit will give you passionate love that makes you blaze with devotion. This supernatural love creates moral originality that might seem inconsistent to others but is consistent to God.”

Twenty-two-year-old Nathan absorbed this teaching completely. When his parents objected to his plan to drop college and join a missionary organization, he recognized the exact conflict Chambers described. His family’s concerns about practical preparation and financial stability were opposing Jesus’s claims on his life.

Nathan chose “instant obedience” over family relationships. He left college despite his parents’ heartbreak, believing the Holy Spirit would provide the passionate devotion and moral originality needed for radical discipleship. His family’s anguish was proof he was truly following Jesus rather than human wisdom.

But the promised supernatural love was a devastating mirage.

Nathan struggled with loneliness, financial insecurity, growing doubt about his decision. The “blazing devotion” he’d expected felt more like religious pressure and social isolation. Instead of moral originality, he felt confused and directionless. The passionate love supposedly imparted by the Holy Spirit was nowhere to be found when he needed it most.

Meanwhile, his sister Sarah approached her calling to help others with zero expectation of supernatural devotion. As a social work student, she developed compassion through education, volunteer experience, professional training. Her love for vulnerable populations grew through sustained contact and learning, not through claimed divine impartation.

Sarah maintained close family relationships while pursuing meaningful service. She didn’t see her parents’ practical concerns as opposition to divine calling but as wisdom from people who cared about her wellbeing. Her approach required no family abandonment or supernatural transformation—just persistent commitment to helping others through competent professional service.

When Nathan finally returned home after two brutal years, his family welcomed him without judgment. His attempt to choose Jesus over family relationships had damaged bonds unnecessarily while providing zero spiritual benefit.

Where was the Holy Spirit’s passionate love that was supposed to make him blaze with devotion? Where was the moral originality that would sustain him through radical discipleship?

The “moral originality” he’d sought through abandonment had been isolation and poor decision-making. Sarah’s sustainable approach—maintaining family relationships while developing professional competence—proved infinitely more effective than Nathan’s radical discipleship.

Her love for others deepened through experience and education rather than claimed divine impartation. Her devotion was sustainable because it was based on human capacity and community support, not supernatural promises that never materialized.

Nathan’s breakthrough came when he realized that healthy family relationships could support rather than oppose meaningful service. The passionate devotion he’d sought through supernatural means grew naturally through finding work that matched his actual abilities and interests.

The silence where the Holy Spirit’s blazing love was supposed to sustain him revealed the truth: there was no supernatural devotion to access. Only human love and commitment that required no family sacrifice to flourish.

Reflection Question: When has maintaining family relationships while pursuing meaningful work been more sustainable than abandoning close relationships for spiritual reasons?

Real Solutions: A Response to July 1st

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 Inevitable Penalty”, promises that God imposes divine discipline through the Holy Spirit’s “scrutiny” until believers achieve purity, claiming those who don’t respond to conviction will be in spiritual “prison” until they “pay the last penny” and that God will “tax the last limits of the universe” to help once they surrender.

“The Holy Spirit is convicting you about something,” her church counselor insisted. “God won’t let you escape his scrutiny. You’re in spiritual prison until you pay the last penny. What is your conscience telling you to do? What debt do you owe from God’s standpoint?”

Here’s what waiting for God to tax the limits of the universe actually delivered:

Michelle’s marriage was disintegrating. Her husband’s drinking had escalated into verbal abuse, then controlling behavior, then threats. But instead of addressing these problems directly, her counselor demanded spiritual self-examination. Surely Michelle’s marital crisis revealed some hidden sin requiring divine discipline.

She searched desperately for whatever spiritual failure was causing her suffering. Perhaps she wasn’t submissive enough? Maybe her frustration with her husband’s drinking revealed a judgmental spirit? She confessed every potential failing, wrote apology letters, tried harder to be the perfect Christian wife.

Surely addressing these spiritual debts would restore her relationship with God and heal her marriage.

But the promised divine intervention was a dangerous delusion.

Michelle’s husband’s drinking escalated despite her spiritual efforts. His verbal abuse became more frequent and cruel. The “inevitable penalty” she was supposedly serving felt like being trapped in actual hell, not being purified by divine love.

The breaking point came when her husband shoved her during an argument, leaving bruises on her arms. Even then, her church counselor insisted she examine her own spiritual condition. “God is determined to make you pure,” he reminded her. “What is he trying to show you about your disposition?”

Meanwhile, Michelle’s sister Janet had watched this spiritual victim-blaming with growing alarm. As a domestic violence advocate, Janet recognized the classic pattern of making victims responsible for their abusers’ behavior through religious manipulation.

“This isn’t about your spiritual condition,” Janet said bluntly. “This is about your safety. You need professional help, not more self-examination.”

When Michelle finally contacted a domestic violence counselor, she learned that abuse escalates over time and that no amount of victim self-improvement changes abuser behavior. The counselor helped her develop a safety plan, connect with legal resources, understand that leaving wasn’t spiritual failure but necessary self-protection.

Michelle’s breakthrough came when she stopped waiting for God to “tax the limits of the universe” to help her and started using human resources designed for domestic violence situations.

Where was the divine scrutiny that was supposed to lead to purity? Where was God’s glorious ministry of love that would set her relationship right?

The spiritual “prison” she’d been told to endure was real imprisonment in an abusive marriage. The “inevitable penalty” wasn’t divine discipline but human suffering that could be addressed through practical intervention.

The relationship that got “set right” wasn’t with God but with professional advocates who provided actual protection while spiritual counselors had offered only more victim-blaming.

The silence where God’s re-creating forces were supposed to work revealed the truth: there was no divine scrutiny keeping her trapped, no spiritual debt requiring payment. Only human systems that provided real help when she stopped seeking spiritual solutions to practical problems.

Reflection Question: When has seeking professional help for serious problems been more effective than examining your spiritual condition for hidden sins?

Proper Channels: A Response to June 30th

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, “Do It Now”, promises that believers who quickly obey spiritual promptings about relationships will avoid an “inevitable process” of divine discipline, claiming God’s Spirit works on the disobedient until they achieve purity and that immediate reconciliation prevents worse spiritual consequences.

Here’s what quick spiritual obedience actually delivered:

“Don’t insist on your rights,” his pastor advised urgently. “Focus on what you owe, not what’s owed to you. Confess any anger and reconcile immediately, or God will put you through an inevitable process of spiritual discipline until you learn obedience.”

Kevin had just discovered his business partner stealing $50,000 from their accounting firm. The theft threatened his family’s financial security and the survival of their small business. But his pastor’s guidance seemed clear: settle quickly with adversaries, don’t seek justice, focus on his own spiritual failures rather than his partner’s crimes.

Against every instinct, Kevin approached his partner with forgiveness instead of legal action. He confessed his own anger as sin and offered reconciliation, believing this Christ-like obedience would prevent divine discipline.

Surely God would honor this spiritual response and protect Kevin from further harm.

But the promised protection was a catastrophic delusion.

Kevin’s partner interpreted forgiveness as weakness and continued stealing. When Kevin finally discovered additional embezzlement months later, his partner had fled with even more money. The “inevitable process” Kevin had tried to avoid through spiritual obedience became far worse due to his passive response.

Meanwhile, his friend Lisa faced identical betrayal when her business partner defrauded their graphic design company. But Lisa didn’t seek spiritual guidance about settling quickly with adversaries. She immediately consulted an attorney, documented the fraud, pursued legal remediation through proper channels.

Lisa didn’t worry about divine discipline for insisting on her rights or failing to reconcile spiritually. She treated theft as a legal matter requiring professional intervention, not a spiritual test requiring Christ-like submission.

The outcome vindicated Lisa’s practical approach completely. Legal action recovered most stolen funds and prevented additional theft. Her partner faced appropriate consequences through the justice system. Lisa’s business survived and eventually thrived because she’d acted decisively rather than spiritually.

Kevin’s attempt to avoid God’s “inevitable process” through quick obedience had enabled more harm and delayed necessary action. The spiritual discipline he’d feared was imaginary, while the practical consequences of not addressing fraud were devastatingly real.

When Kevin finally pursued legal action months later, recovery was much harder. His spiritual approach had allowed evidence to disappear and made prosecution nearly impossible.

Where was the divine protection that was supposed to come from Christ-like behavior? Where was God’s honor for spiritual obedience and quick reconciliation?

The divine disciplinary process that was supposed to punish disobedience never materialized. The unalterable spiritual laws were completely absent. Only human consequences for human choices—and Kevin’s spiritual choices had been disasters.

The silence where God’s inevitable process was supposed to unfold revealed the truth: there were no divine laws ensuring spiritual consequences for relationship conflicts. Only practical outcomes from practical decisions.

Reflection Question: When has addressing conflicts through proper channels been more effective than seeking quick spiritual reconciliation?

Balanced Living: A Response to June 29th

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 Direction of Discipline”, promises that spiritual rebirth leads to divine insight about what believers must “cut off” from their lives, claiming the Holy Spirit warns against things that “break concentration on God” and that temporary spiritual “maiming” leads to divine perfection.

Here’s what cutting off good things actually produced:

“God will show you legitimate activities you need to abandon,” his campus pastor explained earnestly. “Your life may seem maimed at first, but the Holy Spirit will guide you toward perfection. It’s better to be lovely in God’s sight than in the world’s eyes.”

David had experienced what felt like spiritual awakening during his senior year. Now he needed to demonstrate serious discipleship by cutting off anything that hindered his concentration on God—even good things that might be stumbling blocks to spiritual growth.

He quit the debate team because competitive arguing fed his pride. Stopped playing guitar because music distracted from prayer time. Ended his relationship with his girlfriend because romantic feelings interfered with spiritual concentration.

Each sacrifice felt like cutting off his “right hand,” but David believed this spiritual maiming would lead to divine perfection. When friends questioned these dramatic changes, he explained that God was calling him to higher standards they couldn’t understand.

But the promised spiritual perfection was a devastating lie.

Instead of becoming “lovely in God’s sight,” David became increasingly isolated, anxious, spiritually obsessive. His self-imposed restrictions created a narrow, joyless existence rather than the “full-orbed” life Jesus supposedly desired. The divine guidance he thought he was receiving felt more like religious scrupulosity than supernatural wisdom.

Meanwhile, his ex-girlfriend Sarah continued pursuing all the activities David had abandoned as spiritually dangerous. She remained on the debate team, played music regularly, started dating someone who appreciated her intellect and creativity.

Sarah’s life flourished while David’s withered. Her engagement with challenging ideas through debate sharpened her thinking. Musical expression brought joy to herself and others. Her relationship provided emotional support and personal growth.

The activities David had sacrificed as stumbling blocks proved enriching and beneficial for Sarah.

When David finally sought counseling for anxiety and depression, his therapist helped him recognize that his spiritual “cutting off” had been driven by fear and perfectionism, not divine guidance. The maimed life he’d created wasn’t leading to spiritual beauty but to psychological dysfunction.

David’s breakthrough came when he started reintegrating the activities he’d abandoned. Returning to music and meaningful relationships didn’t break his concentration on important things—it restored balance and joy to his life.

Where was the Holy Spirit’s guidance about what to eliminate? Where was the divine insight that was supposed to lead to spiritual perfection?

The “stumbling blocks” he’d cut off had actually been sources of growth and connection. The spiritual discipline that promised divine beauty had delivered human misery instead.

The silence where supernatural wisdom about spiritual discipline was supposed to flow revealed the truth: there was no Holy Spirit providing insight about what to cut off. Only human fear creating unnecessary restrictions that damaged rather than enhanced life.

Reflection Question: When has eliminating good activities in the name of spiritual discipline been more harmful than helpful to your wellbeing and growth?

Chosen Work: A Response to June 28th

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, “Gripped by God”, promises that true ministers are “gripped by God” through divine calling, claiming that Christ Jesus “takes hold” of those he calls and that this divine grip provides clear direction and eliminates uncertainty about one’s fitness for ministry.

Here’s what waiting for God’s grip actually delivered:

“You don’t choose this calling,” his seminary professors insisted. “Christ Jesus takes hold of you. If you’re truly called, you’ll feel the agonizing grip of God’s hand determining your message and direction. This divine grip eliminates doubt about your fitness for ministry.”

James desperately wanted that supernatural confirmation. During college, he’d felt drawn to ministry, but he needed to know if Christ had truly “taken hold” of him or if this was just religious enthusiasm. He waited for the promised divine grip that would provide certainty about his calling.

When he experienced moments of spiritual intensity during prayer or worship, James interpreted these as evidence of God’s grip. Surely this was Christ taking hold of his life for gospel ministry. The agonizing grip would guide his preaching and eliminate doubt about his suitability for pastoral work.

But as James entered ministry, the promised divine grip proved to be psychological quicksand.

Instead of clear supernatural direction about what to preach, he struggled constantly with sermon preparation, theological questions, ministry challenges. Rather than divine certainty about his calling, he battled relentless doubt about his effectiveness and fitness for pastoral work.

The “agonizing grip of God’s hand” felt more like spiritual anxiety and psychological pressure. James couldn’t distinguish between his own religious enthusiasm and genuine divine calling. The harder he sought supernatural confirmation, the more uncertain he became about everything.

Meanwhile, his friend Sarah approached helping others with zero expectation of divine grip. As a social worker, she didn’t claim supernatural calling or wait for Christ to take hold of her. She chose her profession based on skills assessment, educational interests, and practical desire to address social problems.

Sarah didn’t wait for God to determine her methods or message. She used evidence-based practices, professional training, ongoing education to improve effectiveness. When facing difficult cases or career decisions, she consulted supervisors, reviewed research, relied on professional judgment rather than seeking divine direction.

The clarity and purpose James sought through divine grip, Sarah found through professional competence and clear boundaries. Her motivation came not from supernatural calling but from seeing tangible results in people’s lives.

When James finally left pastoral ministry due to burnout and persistent doubt about his calling, he realized he’d been chasing a spiritual experience that didn’t exist. The divine grip he’d sought was psychological pressure, not supernatural confirmation.

Sarah’s approach—choosing meaningful work based on abilities and interests rather than waiting for divine calling—proved infinitely more sustainable and effective than James’s quest for supernatural ministry confirmation.

Where was the divine grip that was supposed to eliminate uncertainty? Where was Christ taking hold to provide clear direction and purpose?

The silence where God’s agonizing grip was supposed to manifest revealed the truth: there was no divine hand directing his life. Only his own choices and their consequences. Only human work chosen for human reasons.

Reflection Question: When has choosing work based on your abilities and interests been more reliable than waiting for divine calling or supernatural confirmation?

Professional Advocacy: A Response to June 27th

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, “Personal Deliverance”, promises that God will guard believers’ lives wherever he sends them, claiming those devoted to Jesus need not seek justice for themselves because God will “rescue” and provide divine protection to those who trust completely rather than relying on common sense.

Here’s what trusting in promised deliverance actually delivered:

“God will guard your life wherever he sends you,” her pastor assured confidently. “Don’t worry about fair treatment or stand up for yourself. Focus on devotion to Christ, and he will provide personal deliverance from whatever you encounter.”

Rebecca had just accepted a teaching position at a severely underfunded inner-city school. The working conditions looked brutal, but this spiritual framework promised divine protection for those who remained devoted rather than fighting for themselves.

When administrators assigned her classes of 45 students without adequate supplies, Rebecca didn’t advocate for better conditions—that would be seeking “great things for herself.” When colleagues bullied her for maintaining academic standards, she accepted persecution as blessed rather than defending herself.

God would rescue her if she remained spiritually devoted.

But the promised deliverance was a cruel fiction. Rebecca’s health deteriorated under impossible working conditions. Her students suffered in overcrowded classrooms with insufficient resources. The administration exploited her passive approach, piling on additional responsibilities without compensation.

Where was the divine protection for someone devoted to Christ’s work?

Meanwhile, her colleague Marcus approached identical challenges with zero expectation of supernatural rescue. Instead of waiting for divine deliverance, Marcus documented unsafe working conditions and brought them to the union. He advocated for reasonable class sizes, demanded adequate supplies, pushed back against administrative exploitation.

When faced with retaliation, Marcus stood up for himself and his students through established labor protections. He didn’t expect God to guard his life or provide personal deliverance. His “common sense” approach—which Chambers would criticize as unspiritual—proved infinitely more effective than spiritual passivity.

When the school board finally addressed unsafe conditions and overcrowding, it wasn’t because God had rescued devoted teachers like Rebecca. Change came because teachers like Marcus had documented problems, organized collectively, and demanded accountability through legal processes.

Rebecca’s breakthrough came when she abandoned the spiritual framework and started advocating professionally. The “personal deliverance” she’d been promised was completely absent, while practical advocacy actually improved conditions for everyone.

The justice that transformed the school didn’t come from divine intervention but from teachers who refused to accept exploitation as spiritual discipline. Standing up for fair treatment wasn’t spiritual failure but professional responsibility.

Where was God’s promised rescue for devoted believers? Where was the divine protection that was supposed to come from trusting rather than using common sense?

The silence where personal deliverance was supposed to manifest revealed the truth: no divine guardian exists to protect devoted believers from exploitation. Only human advocacy and legal protections create actual change in unjust situations.

Reflection Question: When has advocating for fair treatment been more effective than accepting poor conditions as spiritual discipline?