Needs vs. Wants

Everyone has been admonished about the difference between needs and wants. Either father or mother or someone important shook their finger and said, “You might want it, but do you need it?”

I heard a sermon awhile ago about this difference. It used Philippians 4:19, which says, “And my God shall supply all your need according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus.”

This well-known verse is often used to encourage those who are in need, but the sermon looked at it from a different angle. The preacher said that we have no clue (most of the time) of what we need. Besides that, God’s idea of our biggest need might not be our idea. He is at work to shape His people into the likeness of Christ. The ‘tools’ necessary for that shaping might not align with our idea of what should be happening to us. In other words, what we want might not be what we need.

I agree. I might sense a need for patience. I hope God will zap me with it, but to answer that need, He sends tribulation because, according to Romans 5:3 and James 1:2-3, trials and tribulation produce patience. I don’t want that, but I do need the patience it produces.

In my mind, I might need more time; in God’s mind, I may need better time-managing skills, or the ability to say ‘no,’ or to reorganize my priorities, or my need might be something else altogether. God can use the pressures of having too much on my plate to shape in me a character trait that I need but hasn’t entered my mind.

That sermon was good, thought-provoking and helpful. It fit in with something my mother used to say, “We must need it, or we wouldn’t be getting it.” God knows all about me. I can trust Him with what is going on, because He promises to supply both needs and wants.

However, as much as I agree with this sermon, and with the idea of a sovereign God controlling the issues of my life according to what will best shape me into the image of His Son, I don’t agree that Philippians 4:19 says this. The phrase, “great sermon, wrong text” comes to mind.

The verses in chapter 4 before this verse are about Paul being in dire circumstances. The church at Philippi sent him a gift to take care of his need. He expressed gratitude for it, not so much that he worried about himself, but that he was glad to see the virtue of generosity in them. He mentioned that he had learned contentment, then added, “Nevertheless you have done well that you shared in my distress.”

He goes on to talk about how no other church shared with him “concerning giving and receiving” and he complimented their sacrifice on his behalf. While money is not mentioned, the Greek words used in this phrase are “account, expenditures and receipts.” Paul was also well aware that their giving depleted their own supply, so added that God would “supply all their need” in proportion to His great riches. They could count on Him to take care of them.

The verse is not about God’s control over the circumstances we need to shape us into Christ’s likeness; it is about material need, including money. It is an assurance that no matter how generous we give, God is able to supply whatever we might lack because of it. It is a verse that makes putting a generous chunk of money in the offering plate an act of faith. I can give to meet the need of someone else because I know that God will take care of me.

I also know that God will put stuff into my life to shape me into the image of His Son, stuff needed to whack off all that does not look like Jesus. I both need and want that, but the promise of it happening is not from this great verse, but from other parts of the Bible!

A “Can’t Woman”

While I was growing up, a certain fellow earned a title from my dad; he called him a “Can’t Man.” I don’t remember much about the man, except that he worked for dad for a time and no matter what he was asked to do, he responded with reasons why it could not be done.

I thought of him, and that title, this morning reading Luke 9. It’s the familiar story of Jesus feeding five thousand people. Verse 12-13 says, “When the day began to wear away, the twelve came and said to Him, ‘Send the multitude away, that they may go into the surrounding towns and country, and lodge and get provisions; for we are in a deserted place here.’

“But He said to them, ‘You give them something to eat.’

“And they said, ‘We have no more than five loaves and two fish, unless we go and buy food for all these people.’”

Sometimes I feel like God has set me up. I had breakfast this morning before devotions, and while glancing through the newspaper skimmed several articles about senior care in our city and province. Because my mother and father received excellent care, I know it is possible, yet the news stories were about negative conditions, numerous complaints, and the great need of seniors in our society.

I felt burdened. Often the elderly are without proper care in facilities where they pay big bucks to get it. Lack of staff is one issue and funding may play a part. I instantly wanted to do something to make it better. I thought about the huge needs compared to my resources and decided that I don’t have enough of what it would take to make a difference. I’m only one person and I am not rich.

Then I read Luke 9.

Humanly, a first response to need is a check of our bank account or our calendar to see if we can do it. The disciples did the same thing. “We have no more than five loaves and two fish,” they said. “I have no experience or knowledge. I wouldn’t know even where to start,” I said, and now realize I’ve earned my dad’s label.

I don’t know if this burden was from the Lord or just my own emotional reaction to the newspaper stories. I was deeply involved in the care of my parents during their last years, and would associate them with the current issues. This blurs my ability to recognize who is talking to me. I do know that if this burden is from the Lord, He will persist and He will call me to do something.

The point is, at least right now, that when God does point me to a need, His desire is that I automatically respond thinking about His supply. What can He do to change this? How am I to be involved? What will He give me so I can do His will in this situation?

The last thing He wants me to do is go check my bank balance, current to-do list, or job resume. If He wants me to do anything, He promises to supply all that I need to do it. Reading this passage this morning reveals to me that I am still very much like my dad’s “Can’t Man” and like those twelve guys on the hill who also didn’t have a clue how to help a needy multitude.

You are the strength of our hearts . . .

My strong, healthy (other than asymptomatic CLL) husband, who just passed his aviation medical, and has low blood pressure and cholesterol levels, had a heart attack yesterday.

He called me from work about 1:30 and in a matter-of-fact voice said he had heartburn and felt flushed. He was calling the medical people in his company because his office is located in a remote corner of the building and no one was around.

He called fifteen minutes later and said he was having the guys take him to the ER. I got there about 10 minutes after they did. He looked a bit warm, but was standing up. He said they did an ECG and it verified that he was having an attack as they took it.

They put him in a bed and started hooking up wires. I watched his face. He was looking at the ceiling and smiling. He later told me that was when he was thanking God for good medical care, and for motivating him to take his mild symptoms seriously.

They already had staff assembled to take him upstairs for an angioplasty, but changed their minds and decided to give him blood thinners instead. He’d already been given Aspirin® and was on an IV. However, someone read some numbers wrong, and he was given three times the dose of thinners that he was supposed to have. Problem: he could bleed internally, especially in his head. They tried a dose of something that “might” reverse it somewhat, but they were not sure it would work.

The medical people told us when the blood thinners start working, the heart begins to fluctuate. It did. The first time his pulse dropped to 37, he nearly passed out. He calmly said, “I think you’re going to lose me.” Bells were ringing. Six staff converged, one of them pushing a crash cart. He told me later that right then he said to God, “If this is it, I’m ready.”

His blood pressure dropped too, very low. Then both pulse and BP moved up, then another drop, then up again. This went on for 45 minutes, but the nearer-to-normal readings began lasting longer and longer.

By then, our youngest son had arrived. I look back now and see how God worked. I couldn’t get any family on the phone. Our son is normally not at his desk at work and normally does not have his personal cell phone on at work. Yesterday, he’d misplaced the belt clip for his personal cell and had it in his pocket. He said if anyone calls him at work and it is on, he just reaches down and turns it off without answering it. With moving around in his pocket, the phone somehow switched from vibrate to ring. I didn’t have his work number on me anyway so called his personal cell. It rang and without thinking, he answered it. He was on his way to his car before we finished talking.

The doctor came in and said they were going to put my husband in the Cardiac unit for a few days. They were concerned about bleeding, and also needed to keep an eye on him in case the clotting recurred after the thinners went out of his system. They are also continuing with regular electrocardiograms and checking his blood enzymes.

He called me before 7:30 this morning. He didn’t sleep too well, mostly because of noises. (He’s the guy who went outside in the middle of the night and put electrical tape around the clappers of ornamental garden bells hanging in our neighbor’s yard!) But he was chipper and gave me a list of things to bring him.

Most of the details above are so I can send family and friends here rather than retelling it, which gets tiring for me. However, my devotional guide this morning has an interesting comment and speaks to the sharing of needs.

2 Corinthians 7:2 says, “Make room for us in your hearts. We have wronged no one, we have corrupted no one, we have exploited no one.”

This verse is about Paul’s desire for a right relationship with the Corinthians whom he had severely rebuked for some of their behavior. He wanted them to know that everything he did was done with sincere motives and a desire for their spiritual well-being. My devotional guide added this: “It is a shameful thing to profess trust in God and yet to play the role of a pauper, disclosing one’s need and provoking others to pity.”

The author goes on to explain that it is okay to enjoy the hospitality and kindness of others, but guard against taking liberties and “petty advantages” rather than remembering that I am God’s workman and He supplies my needs. I don’t need to go begging for anything, just trust Him. Not only that, because He is so generous, I can, even when I am needy, be liberal and supply the needs of others.

After my husband called the first time yesterday afternoon, I was standing beside my bed. I dropped to my knees and asked God to give me what I needed. He filled me with that incredible peace that passes understanding. As I look back on the events of Monday afternoon, I realize His wisdom in that grace. Our children were at first fearful and wild-eyed, but that peace of God that covered me had an effect on them too.

Most of all the calm assurance of their dad had to speak volumes. He had us hold hands around his hospital bed while he prayed and thanked God for His care and for the medical staff (even for the mistakes because, after all, God is in control).

For me, this makes this whole thing almost surreal. Did it really happen? Our lives changed so quickly. For sure, we live one day, even one moment at a time.

For those who read this blog and who pray, I know you will, and I thank you.

Yielding control

Obeying God sometimes feels like trying to cup a butterfly in my hands without damaging its wings. Obedience is a beautiful thing, but my human sinfulness, even when I don’t want it to, frustrates His efforts and even my desire to preserve that beauty.

Paul said it well in Romans 7: “For we know that the law is spiritual, but I am carnal, sold under sin.”

While the rest of his writing makes it clear that sin no longer totally controls those who belong to Christ, sin still has power in my flesh, the human “I-will-do-it-myself” part of me. Unless God is at work, and unless I am yielded to Him, I will sin. But even when both things are happening, the contamination of sin is such that it tries to ruin the work of God and my willingness to cooperate with His work.

This verse shows that the law of God has nothing wrong with it; it is spiritual. Yet, when I try to obey it (apart from Christ), it reveals how much is wrong with me. My devotional book gives an excellent illustration. Suppose I have a clumsy servant. As long as I never ask him to do anything, his clumsiness is hidden. But if I give a command, he gets up and begins knocking over things, stumbling, breaking dishes, and so on. The commands were okay, but the servant is all wrong. He cannot do what I ask without ruining it.

We are sinners by nature, but unless God asks us to do something, we don’t realize it. When it happens, as Paul writes in Romans 7, “sin through the commandment becomes exceedingly sinful.” It is by the law that I know how far short I fall, how much I miss the high standard of God’s holiness.

The purpose of the law of God for unbelievers is that they will know they fall short and need a Savior, but it is also the law’s purpose for me. I am saved from sin’s penalty, but to be saved from its power, I also need Jesus. I cannot conquer sin, nor can I obey the law of God if I try to do it myself. Nor can I do it if I try to direct the main player, the Holy Spirit. I must let Him do with me as He wishes, not control Him. If I interfere, the beauty of obedience is hidden.

My hands, my fleshy, sinful nature cannot wrap themselves around the butterfly. The Spirit of God is at work to produce obedience in me. The only way that can happen without me wreaking it is if I quit trying to control His movements and let go, let the Spirit take flight, and live for God—not according to my will, but His.

This spring, maybe I'll plant another cedar. . .

Someone who has ‘borderline personality disorder” told me yesterday that the “cure” takes years of hard work. She described BPD like this: “When someone is growing up it is as if they missed grasping how to cope with life in certain areas. Then, when they encounter issues in those areas, they revert to doing what they did when they were children.”

Not only does a BPD person not know they are acting like a child (after all, a child doesn’t know), they cannot fathom any other way to act. This is confusing to them and worse for their care givers. They must learn new skills, first done by rote and then practice until it clicks in that this response works better than that one.

She added, “Expect at least two years, and only if your granddaughter is willing to work hard and stick with the program. Even though she will live with this the rest of her life, she will get better.”

Oddly, knowing this is better than guessing and didn’t seem like bad news. I know God can produce a miracle (and those always seem to come as a surprise, even when we pray for them), but this news settles me into the long-term. It will not be easy though.

This morning I read from Hosea 14. God says, “I will be like the dew to Israel; he shall grow like the lily, and lengthen his roots like Lebanon.”

I know little about dew except that it makes our grass wet in the morning. My devotional book says that dew is vital to the life and growth of trees and flowers. Sources on the Internet add that dew is particularly important in times of drought, and that some plants seem more able to collect moisture from dew than others.

I know lilies. They grow best in groups, respond well to ample feeding, and have one of the loveliest blooms in my garden. They also multiply quite rapidly.

My only cedar is a dwarf globe. I know the taller variety grows and is famous in Lebanon. I also understand that their roots are dense and grow rapidly too. Normally, nothing grows well in their shade, but at least one person claims that their lilies do fine under their cedars. My devotional book says of this link, “ . . . frail beauty and massive strength united . . . “

God promises to be like dew to His people, my supply in dry times, and my supply as I wait every morning for Him, as I am like the plants that collect the dew. With His blessing, I will not only survive but grow. I already know that in my weakness, like a frail lily, I have His strength.

The Bible does not say if Hosea was a gardener, but God gave him this lovely word picture, a combination of dew, lilies and cedar roots, to remind me that no matter what lies ahead, He will supply all that I need.