The title of this essay is from a story in the bible of Jesus being lead into the wilderness to be tempted by the devil. In the story, the devil tells Jesus (who had been fasting) to use his powers to turn stones into bread so he could eat. As with most spiritual scripture, the stories in the bible are not necessarily literal instructions on how to behave and much more often metaphorical stories on the experience of being an awakened human.
I use this example not to make a theological argument or religious statement but as a metaphorical backdrop for a very real thing in our modern lives: the application of our will.
We’ve all heard the phrase “Where there’s a will, there’s a way”. It is a reminder to be resilient, driven, focused. Of course, there are many times in life where we need to exert our will, skills and gifts to accomplish something. But in the spiritual realm, the phrase would be much more accurate as “Where there’s worth, there’s a wait”. It is a sign of spiritual and emotional maturity to held the tension between “make it happen” and “let it happen”
This is a hard lesson I’m still learning at nearly 50 years old.
In a recent visit, a healer friend asked me “Who taught you to never give up?” I said that, although my grandfather was an example of work ethic, I have always been obstinate. But not about everything. The obstinance and never-quit seemed to only apply to get things I wanted. If I wasn’t interested or passionate about it, there was no drive. Or I refused to quit something out of sheer resentment. My relentless will has served me well over the years. From being a very young father (barely 22 at the time) to major moves to commissioned sales to being an entrepreneur. The shadow of all this is that I made a tremendous amount of painful mistakes. Of course, these painful experiences eventually end up being lessons that contribute to wisdom. But I didn’t need to make it so painful!
A real story of obstinance …
I’d always wanted to live in an old farmhouse on some acreage. In 2003, one came on to the market in Greenleaf, Idaho — about 45 minutes from work. It seemed perfect. Other than the plumbing, the interior had been updated. The acreage was well maintained. It was cozy. It was blue with red outbuildings. Everything about it matched the picture in my head. So I made it happen. I muscled through a variety of obstacles and the dream was achieved. Reality was starkly different. Over an 8 year period, I tried to make it work — all in the midst of being a father to two young boys and in the mighty struggle of being a founding partner in a start-up. Thank God for Lynna during these times. Her resoluteness kept us going emotionally and often, financially. In the end, I just couldn’t do it anymore. The cost of living was too high, the pressure and pain too great. So I walked away. Of course, hindsight reminds me of many positive stories from that time. Our boys didn’t really know about the struggle so they have fond memories of the place. I’m grateful for those moments but it was a tough, necessary lesson about not trying to turn stones into bread.
This year, I’ve learned a different lesson about using my will to turn stones into bread. According to the story, it appears that Jesus did have the power to do just that. That’s likely what made it so tempting — especially when hungry. I believe we all have a similar temptation. We all have spiritual gifts that our ego-mind wants to hijack to fulfill an immediate need. And when we are hungry, lonely, tired that’s when we are most susceptible to forcing a “miracle”.
I am in the midst of experiencing a second awakening. The first one in 2014 freed me from conditions and circumstances. This one is freeing me from dependence. And one of the things I’ve been very dependent on over the years has been my will, my obstinance. The first awakening was about going, being decisive, boldly saying yes. This awakening is about waiting, being patient, surrendering. In this phase, waiting is the bold move.
During the past several weeks, I have been relentlessly tempted to determine outcomes, speed things along, change the timeline, force decision points in almost every major area of my life. I make plans and lists and scenarios — but then in the witching hour, I hear “wait” and when my mind is quieted, I hear “wait”. I have been reminded repeatedly that anxiety is the mind’s way of managing an unstable situation. But I’m learning that anything done out of fear does not make things better. I’m learning that Love does not lead you to lack and plenty-ness is the reward for patience. This time is not about being passive. Even in the waiting, we must still know and ask for what we want. The difference is severing any attachments to outcomes and releasing expectations. Or if you will, having faith.
We call it a leap of faith. And that is often true. But maybe this faith is about being still, being receptive. Maybe this is the kind of faith that forces you into the River of Doubt so that you can learn to surrender to its flow. Maybe mature faith is not a leap but a release of control.