P—thank you for writing this. I can feel the weight of conviction in it, and the sincerity of your call to trust God even when what He asks feels difficult or uncomfortable. That’s not a small thing to name, and I respect the clarity and courage in how you said it.
As I read, though, I found myself lingering in Jonah a bit longer.
Because what strikes me is not just that Jonah refused—but why.
It doesn’t seem like he misunderstood God.
It seems like he understood Him too well.
He knew God was merciful.
He knew Nineveh might be spared.
And something in him could not bear the thought of mercy being extended to people he believed did not deserve it.
That tension feels important.
Not as an excuse for Jonah—but as a window into something very human:
What happens when God’s mercy collides with our sense of justice?
I wonder if, at times, what looks like “refusal” on the surface is actually a deeper wrestling underneath:
wrestling with pain
wrestling with what feels right or fair
wrestling with wounds we may not even fully see
And I think Scripture gives us space for that wrestling.
The Psalms are full of it.
Job lives in it.
Even Jonah himself eventually argues with God.
So I find myself asking—not as a pushback, but out of curiosity:
Is obedience always the absence of resistance?
Or can it sometimes include bringing our full, honest tension into the presence of God?
Because the invitation I keep seeing is not just:
“Obey me.”
But also:
“Come, let me know you—even here.”
I agree with you that God is trustworthy, and that surrender matters deeply.
I just wonder if, sometimes, surrender doesn’t begin with silencing our resistance—but with bringing it honestly into relationship.
Appreciate you sharing this—it stirred something real in me.
Very well said. Thank you. I found after walking several years with the Lord that if I feel resistance inside, I choose to surrender it to Him, because I've learned that if one of us is wrong, it's not Him, it's me. However I do have the freedom to bring my concern to him, and I always do. I bring everything to him. Everything. In the end though, I know we just don't have his perspective, and that truly limits us. It's a hard lesson to learn, but it's the source of my joy.
I had a mentor, a very wise older woman who loved Jesus, tell me the following...Do you want to be right or follow Jesus...because you can't do both. Any right you think you have was already His from the beginning of time. That has stuck with me in a profound way since she told me that decades ago.
P—thank you for writing this. I can feel the weight of conviction in it, and the sincerity of your call to trust God even when what He asks feels difficult or uncomfortable. That’s not a small thing to name, and I respect the clarity and courage in how you said it.
As I read, though, I found myself lingering in Jonah a bit longer.
Because what strikes me is not just that Jonah refused—but why.
It doesn’t seem like he misunderstood God.
It seems like he understood Him too well.
He knew God was merciful.
He knew Nineveh might be spared.
And something in him could not bear the thought of mercy being extended to people he believed did not deserve it.
That tension feels important.
Not as an excuse for Jonah—but as a window into something very human:
What happens when God’s mercy collides with our sense of justice?
I wonder if, at times, what looks like “refusal” on the surface is actually a deeper wrestling underneath:
wrestling with pain
wrestling with what feels right or fair
wrestling with wounds we may not even fully see
And I think Scripture gives us space for that wrestling.
The Psalms are full of it.
Job lives in it.
Even Jonah himself eventually argues with God.
So I find myself asking—not as a pushback, but out of curiosity:
Is obedience always the absence of resistance?
Or can it sometimes include bringing our full, honest tension into the presence of God?
Because the invitation I keep seeing is not just:
“Obey me.”
But also:
“Come, let me know you—even here.”
I agree with you that God is trustworthy, and that surrender matters deeply.
I just wonder if, sometimes, surrender doesn’t begin with silencing our resistance—but with bringing it honestly into relationship.
Appreciate you sharing this—it stirred something real in me.
Very well said. Thank you. I found after walking several years with the Lord that if I feel resistance inside, I choose to surrender it to Him, because I've learned that if one of us is wrong, it's not Him, it's me. However I do have the freedom to bring my concern to him, and I always do. I bring everything to him. Everything. In the end though, I know we just don't have his perspective, and that truly limits us. It's a hard lesson to learn, but it's the source of my joy.
I had a mentor, a very wise older woman who loved Jesus, tell me the following...Do you want to be right or follow Jesus...because you can't do both. Any right you think you have was already His from the beginning of time. That has stuck with me in a profound way since she told me that decades ago.