The incessant red glow of the numbers on the digital alarm clock shouted, “it’s 2:00 am and I’m awake”! Slumber land eludes me as I tussle around the bed with a nagging moral question pervading what should be a deep, refreshing state of sleep.  No statehood here, just acute restlessness in my spirit brought on by the antithesis of the still, small voice. My unsettling thoughts are deafening, piercing the quiet like bullets whizzing uncomfortably close to my temple. When the peace is so interrupted as to cause a stricture in my chest, I listen.

There is a disturbing awareness of this moral dilemma brought on by recent life changes, which are good in and of themselves, very good actually, but there is a residue to the recent past that lingers like cool green moss on an overturned stone. Have you found yourself, like me, placating and pacifying the inevitability of doing the right thing, because you justifiably want to do unto others as you have been done unto? Au contraire.  Why did Jesus have to be so right, so morally exemplar? Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad He is. “My yoke is easy” seems at times, not so for me.

My moral dilemma stems from a faulty theology.  The situation and its details are unimportant here, but we all face opportunities in life that challenge us to do the right thing. I know what Jesus would do, and after I stew about it briefly, I have every intention of honoring the right path.  My motivation for such path walking is altogether suspect however. See, my faulty theology leads me to strike out on this path for fear that if I don’t, His favor will pass me by, and he probably won’t even like me.  How could he? How could I possibly expect God’s blessings on our new life if I’m not obedient in this current situation?  This fear-based view negates a loving God of grace and places the receiving of God’s love and blessing on my ability, or lack thereof, to jump through moral hoops.  The last few months have been a tremendous time of deconstructing what I call the Circus camp of theology, with it’s hoop jumping like a trained poodle waiting for my reward and approval from the circus master.

The reality is this.  Emmanuel, God with us. God is with us, and in us, and for us (no hoops needed) simply because we are His beloved children. My motivation for doing the best, right thing is because I am grateful that God is with me, that I know in my deepest heart He loves me and accepts me even when my humanness is on display. Perhaps especially when it’s on display. He doesn’t turn away from us in disgust at our failings.

My restlessness and inability to sleep drove me to peace in His presence, bringing this moral dilemma and my motivation to Him in prayer.  I will do the best, right thing not out of fear, but out of gratitude, love, and thankfulness because I know what Jesus would do.  He would just live in His belovedness.