THE MOST BESTEST AND THE MOST PERFECTEST <3
Legs slightly bowed, a small gap resting between his front teeth, no locs, but his shoulders spread wide and his limbs stretched long—just like my brother’s. A Zambian Daniel, a Chinese Daniel, a Middle Eastern Daniel—missing him has caused me to see him in everyone. And, today as I sit outside the immigration office, there was another: midnight black eyebrows nearly touching, with lashes gently grazing the top of his lids. It wasn’t exactly talking to him or hugging him, but it was a reminder to think of him, to pray for him endlessly.
I wish I could say I’ve prayed over him well, but selfishly, I’ve always wanted him to become what I wanted. Pridefully, I assumed that my will for him was the best for him, so I didn’t pray for God to have His way. I didn’t ask for wisdom in my prayers—no matter how I phrased them, the sentiment remained the same: no jail, no grave, just a life lived for God. My prayers, driven by my own desires, reflected my understanding of God and an honest hope for Daniel. Instead of surrendering, I held on, thinking I knew best. I think I truly believed that God’s existence was somehow linked to me suffering less or at least getting what I wanted. I wasn’t asking for a million dollars or the ability to frolic from country to country aimlessly, I was praying good things so what was the problem?
It wasn’t until the time of his sentencing that my prayers truly shifted. A morning text from my mom came through urgently, asking us all to go before the Lord in prayer. By this time, I had been spending more time with God, and my reverence for Him and understanding of His character had grown. Not willing to risk praying for something outside His will, I prayed what I knew.
"You said if we raise a child in the way they should go, they won’t depart from it. You said You can’t lose any who belong to You. You said You would leave the 99 sheep for the one. You said You’d never leave or forsake us. You said You know the plans You have for us, plans to give us a future and an expected end."
Scripture after scripture flooded my mind, and most of my prayer was simply reminding God of what He promised. But as I finished, a new attitude emerged in my heart: May Your perfect will be accomplished here—give me the words to pray in alignment with what You’re doing, and prepare my heart to accept and trust your perfect decision.
GOD IS NOT OBLIGATED TO DO WHAT we THINK IS BEST IN our lives OR THE LIVES OF HIS CHILDREN.
In my early years of walking with God, I often felt “let down” by Him. If I didn’t perform well in school, I blamed God. When I wasn’t accepted into dental school, I felt He had forgotten to show up. Struggling to land my first job? Clearly, God wasn’t providing. And with every failed relationship, I concluded that God didn’t care about me. I had set my plans, made them plain, and fully expected God to step down from His throne and make them happen. I never paused to ask if I truly needed or even wanted those things, nor did I consider how those open doors might affect me long-term.
My prayers weren’t coming from a heart of service or a desire to align with God’s will. I prayed for what I wanted, what I thought was best, and what I assumed was right for everyone around me. But God doesn’t exist to fulfill my self-seeking, misinformed plans—I exist for Him. He’s not waiting to carry out my vision; He’s waiting for me to finally say yes to His.
With that in mind, it’s painfully obvious that I didn’t want my brother to go to prison. But let’s say God had answered that prayer—where would he be today? With the same heart and mind that led him to make those choices, where would he have ended up? Would he even be alive? Would he have turned to drugs? Would he have become a murderer? Would he have miraculously given it all up and changed his life on his own? I didn’t want his daughter to feel the pain of his absence. I didn’t want my parents' marriage to be affected. I didn’t want to miss him or worry about him. I didn’t want him to get hurt.
All my concerns felt valid, but when I look closer, I realize they were mostly selfish and short-sighted. How can I pray for God to change my brother’s heart in one breath, and then pray against that same change because I don’t like how it feels? How can I ask on Monday for God to pursue him, but by Friday, add stipulations on how God can do it?
I didn’t choose Daniel as my brother or my parents as my parents, but God did. He knew that for the woman I was becoming and the man of God Daniel would be, we would need each other. My parents needed us, and even his daughter—though heartbroken and confused—would be shaped by this experience in a way that is pivotal for who God has called her to be. His will is perfectly designed, accounting for every suffering—whether self-inflicted or not—every connection and relationship. Every single event that He allows or permits is handcrafted specifically for your heart. Perfectly weighted for your shoulders, not as some harsh punishment, but to bring forth exactly what He needs from us.
“Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” matthew 6:10 [esv]
Growing up in and around faith can give you a false sense of authentication. Coasting on the highs and gleaning some wisdom from the lows of the believers around you can create a confidence or assurance that isn’t truly yours. The reliance and humility birthed in my mom through her experiences—several miscarriages, the death of both parents and two siblings, and now an incarcerated son—doesn’t transfer to me by osmosis. The example she set doesn’t count as a lesson learned for me. My mom’s “yes” to God no longer covers me. Her understanding and trust in His will and sovereignty can’t sustain me. Her cross to bear, her suffering, her prayer life—it’s not mine. And, if I am truly committing myself to what it means to be a Child of God, I don’t get to skip over hard and seemingly impossible things because they are difficult and or misaligned with my vision. As we reflect on our ultimate example, Jesus, let’s dive into scripture that speaks to submitting to the sovereignty of God through lifestyle and prayer.
John 6:38-39 “For I have come down from heaven, not to do my own will but the will of Him who sent me. And this is the will of him who sent me, that I should lose nothing of all that he has given me, but raise it up on the last day.”
What do we learn from Christ’s example?
Humble servanthood. Jesus, being fully God and fully man, had the power and authority to do whatever He wanted on earth. Yet, despite this, He chose to submit His will to the Father’s, showing us the perfect example of obedience and surrender. As humans with free will, we, too, can choose to live however we want. But in following Christ’s example, our attitude should echo His words: "Not my will, but Your will, Father." This is the model of true discipleship—laying down our desires in exchange for God’s perfect plan.
Stewardship. Jesus had a purpose for coming to earth—to die for our sins and redeem humanity. Alongside this, He had specific assignments: making disciples, teaching about the kingdom of Heaven, being a perfect example, performing miracles, and more. If it wasn’t in God’s will for Jesus to lose any of what was given to Him, why would it be any different for us? Each of us have a purpose—to make disciples disciples and reflect the glory of God. We, too, have been entrusted with heavenly things that are needed for our various assignments. How we have stewarded what we were given will be exposed on the last day (1 Corinthians 3:13, Matthew 25:14-30).
Luke 22:41-43 “He withdrew about a stone’s throw beyond them, knelt down and prayed, “Father, if you are willing, take this cup from me; yet not my will, but yours be done.” An angel from heaven appeared to him and strengthened him. And being in anguish, he prayed more earnestly, and his sweat was like drops of blood falling to the ground.
What do we learn from Christ’s example?
Make your requests known. Jesus was struggling with what He had to do. He experienced emotions just like you and I. It is not sinful to let your requests be made known to God, in fact He encourages it (Philippians 4:6-7). If your request does not line up with His will He is not obligated to approve, fulfill, or complete it. Your attitude and behavior when you don’t get your way reflects the state of your heart.
Commit yourself to the will of God fully. At the end of His request, He refocused His eyes on God. Again, be honest about the way you feel, what you want, and what you would like to happen. God cares about what you care about and He desires to know the intimate details of your heart and mind. After your request, recommit yourself fully to the will of God. After the outpouring of your heart, recommit yourself fully to the will of God.
Draw near to God always. Jesus was in the midst of unimaginable suffering, yet He drew nearer to God, not further away. In His willingness to approach the Father, He was strengthened. Through scripture, we see that even after being strengthened, He remained in suffering. His response to God? Sincere and intense conviction through prayer. His example shows us the profound relationship between suffering and intimacy with God, between humility and God’s will. It reveals the result of constantly refocusing our eyes on the Father.
Romans 8:26-27 “In the same way, the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us through wordless groans. And he who searches our hearts knows the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for God’s people in accordance with the will of God.”
What do we learn of ourselves?
We are limited. We don’t know what to pray for because we are finite created beings. We don’t know what should happen in our life or the lives of the people around us because we are not God. The Holy Spirit—who is also God—intercedes for us and prays in line with the will of God because He knows what it is. So, do not ignore, silence, quench, or reject the urges and whispers of the Holy Spirit. He knows the will of God, you don’t.
Our submission is required. We can reject the help and ignore the intercession from the Holy Spirit. We have free will. Jesus could have ignored or denied the angel that appeared to Him during prayer to strengthen Him, but He didn’t.
John 5:17,19-20 “In his defense Jesus said to them, “My Father is always at his work to this very day, and I too am working.”. Very truly I tell you, the Son can do nothing by himself; he can do only what he sees his Father doing, because whatever the Father does the Son also does. For the Father loves the Son and shows him all he does. Yes, and he will show him even greater works than these, so that you will be amazed.”
What do we learn from Christ’s example?
We move when He moves. Jesus never went rogue. He didn’t have a corner of His life that was just for Him. He worked in tandem with God. He worked when God worked on the assignment God had for Him at that time.
We don’t do anything on our own. If Jesus didn’t do anything by Himself and He was qualified to do so, what do we honestly think we can accomplish on our own?
Our actions are based on our example. Our example is Christ. The only things we should allow ourselves to do, engage with, and participate in are the things that Jesus Himself did. And where do we find the details of Jesus’s life, His actions, and His teachings? In the New Testament.
The fruit of our revelations about God are beneficial to others. Jesus's knowledge and witness of all that God does wasn’t to make Him puffed up or full of pride in His humanity. His understanding was meant to glorify God and draw others to Him, so they could be amazed by His power and love. In light of Jesus’s example, may we never become prideful or self-important when we receive revelations or understanding of God's mysteries. Instead, let us use what we’ve learned to reveal God's glory in a way that brings people closer to Him, not ourselves. All we know and understand is by His grace, and it should always lead back to Him.
“The Spirit himself testifies with our spirit that we are God’s children. Now if we are children, then we are heirs—heirs of God and co-heirs with Christ, if indeed we share in his sufferings in order that we may also share in his glory.” romans 8:16-17 [niv]
The past year has been extremely sobering to say the least. I’ve grieved and suffered, thrown tantrums and submitted, willingly laid things down and been stripped bare from others, and in every season God has endlessly loved me and revealed sweet and brutal parts of Himself to me.
I’ve known something about God my entire life. You can’t really get through the Allen or Clements family without encountering Him somewhere. But at 27, my understanding of His goodness was only borrowed—lived through the faith of my mother. I trusted His faithfulness through the tears of my father and sister. I knew His love through worship songs, church services, and the voices of other Christians. He wasn’t alive in my world or real to me through my own experiences—until I lost my baby.
In moments of anger, when I couldn’t even find the words to pray, He didn’t abandon me. Whether through a worship song or a scripture Credo would randomly send me, God reminded me that He was still paying attention. When I was trapped in a cycle of accusation and doubt, He showed me in scripture where I had misunderstood Him all along. When I gave up hope, He sat with me. When I was afraid, He drew closer to me. When I was brokenhearted, He remembered me.
I remember being so frustrated that God even allowed me to get pregnant when He did. We could have gotten pregnant on the honeymoon—maybe that baby would have been fine, or at least I’d have the comfort of my family and friends around me. But no. He allowed me to get pregnant just weeks before I moved to the other side of the world, separated by distance and time zones, working opposite shifts from my husband, in a new family that didn’t even feel like mine yet.
Still, in all those hours I was alone, He was able to speak to me. In all those moments of silence, His Spirit interceded for me. During one of the most heartbreaking times of my life, He moved everything and everybody out of the way, and it was just me and Him. In that space He revealed His faithfulness , His sovereignty, and His heart to me. And, although difficult to accept, He revealed what it means to be submitted to His will in all things.
I guess what I am trying to tell you guys is that through suffering—through the death of my baby and will—God became alive to me. Through submitting to His will in my heart, I know Him more intimately. All the questions and wrestling and pain that Satan could have used to separate us, God used to deepen my understanding of who He has always been and who He will always be to me. As we all go through the weekend let our prayers and attitude reflect the humility in our hearts and our total submission to His most bestest and most perfectest will.
