Perspective
By Marshall Miles
Recently Jarla and I traveled to the Dallas area. On our way home, we exited I-35 just north of the Arbuckle Mountains and stopped by Falls Creek. The purpose was to visit our youngest son, Justin, who is now a youth minister at a church in Norman. This was a chance to see him and his wife in their element, ministering to the kids for whom they truly care.
It was exciting, indeed rewarding, to see my son teaching, leading and building relationships with these youth for the purpose of helping them grow in their relationship with God and with each other. To be honest, the whole experience was a bit disorienting. Falls Creek bore only a passing resemblance to the camp I experienced. The softball fields are not where they should be, there were numerous buildings that I did not recognize and the tabernacle is air-conditioned (I’m pretty sure that’s not biblical.) Furthermore, the experiences I remember are well over 40 years ago, and somehow, I have a son old enough to be a youth minister.
Watching him work to impart knowledge and understanding to these youth reminded me of when he taught me a very pivotal lesson—one that has stayed with me for many years and the significance of which has continued to grow in my life. Around 18 years ago when Justin was in second grade, I was pushing him to get his homework done. The homework wasn’t much, and it would not take long, but I was trying to instill certain disciplines that would serve him well later in life. After reminding him once again that he needed to finish his homework, he wheeled around hands on his hips, with as stern an expression as his seven-year-old face could muster. He then loudly announced, “When I have kids, I’m not going to make them do homework.” What he was basically saying, “When I’m a father, I’m going to be kind and loving, not mean and demanding like you!”
His protests were to no avail, and I proceeded to ensure that his homework was completed as requested by his teacher. Even so, his pronouncement resonated with me in a way I had not expected. I recognized the sentiment. Indeed, I was guilty of the same childish behavior. How many times had I thought, “If I was God, I would be more loving, make things more fair, remove more of the hardships of life and generally be a kinder, gentler God.”
My first thought was that God must look at me like I look at my young son, recognizing the immaturity and the complete lack of perspective from which I suffer. My second thought was more humbling. I recalled Isaiah 55:9 where God tells Isaiah, “For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts [ESV].” I realized that my limited perspective is MUCH closer to that of my second-grade son than it is to God’s.
As I continued to ponder what God was teaching me in that moment, I recalled James’ writing in the first chapter of his epistle “Count it all joy, my brothers, when you meet trials of various kinds, for you know that the testing of your faith produces steadfastness.” As much as I love my son and want the best for him, God loves me far more. He loves me far too much to leave me where I am. He has plans for my development and my growth. Those plans are not focused on my comfort but on helping me conform to the image of His Son.
Reflecting later on this same lesson, it hit me how many people reject God because He doesn’t behave like they think He should; precisely because He does not think like they think. I truly believe this to be the pinnacle of arrogance—to assume that God should think like I think and should act like I would act if I was God. It helped me to realize that I do not want a God that thinks exactly like I do—for that would be a god that I created. I want to worship a God whose thoughts are higher than my thoughts—like the heavens are higher than the earth. I worship a God who sees what I cannot see, who understands what I cannot understand, who knows what I cannot know.
I appreciate that God occasionally gives me glimpses of His greatness through his word, through life lessons and even through a young second grade boy.
Author Bio
Marshall has been married to Jarla for 31 years, and they have been members of CRBC for over 20 years. They have three sons, Landon (Chelsea), Nathan (Regan) and Justin (Abby) as well as two grandchildren, Annalee and John Landon. On Sundays you will find Marshall teaching in the TBD Connection Class. On weekdays he is working for Inventronics, and on Saturdays, he will most often be found working on his ranch in Guthrie, OK.