Don’t Mistake Emotion for Devotion. Part 3

There are few things more difficult than knowing God is calling you somewhere that the people who love you most don't understand. Sometimes the hardest people you will have to disappoint are the people who love you the most.

Acts 21 gives us a beautiful picture of this tension.

Paul is on his way to Jerusalem. The people around him know that suffering is waiting for him there. They love Paul. They don't want to see him hurt. So they plead with him not to go.

And Paul responds:

“What are you doing, weeping and breaking my heart? For I am ready not only to be bound but also to die in Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus.”
—Acts 21:13

What a moment.

Paul isn't cold. He isn't dismissive. He isn't pretending that their tears don't matter. Their tears break his heart. But Paul knows something they don't fully understand. There is something he loves more. Jesus.

The people around Paul loved him deeply. Their concern was legitimate. Their tears were genuine. Their desire to protect him came from affection. But their emotional love for Paul should not be confused with spiritual direction from God.

They could see the danger. Paul could see the calling.

They knew Jerusalem might cost Paul his life. Paul knew Jerusalem was where God was leading him.

And sometimes those two things can be true at the same time.

The people closest to you may genuinely love you and still struggle to understand what God is calling you to do.

I've seen this in people who have relocated across the country because they believe God has called them to a difficult place. Some have left family, friends, careers, comfort, and familiarity because they believe God has called them to be a light in a dark place.

And when they packed the moving truck, there were people standing in the driveway pleading with them to stay.

Maybe it was a parent.

Maybe it was a sibling.

Maybe it was a close friend.

Maybe it was an in-law who said something like,

“You know, we've been praying too. And we just don't think this is God's direction for your life.”

That can be incredibly difficult to hear. Especially when you know they aren't saying it because they don't love you. They're saying it because they do.

But love does not automatically give someone spiritual insight into God's calling on your life. Sometimes the people who love you most can see the cost of obedience more clearly than they can see the calling itself.

They see what you are leaving. You see where you are going.

They see the danger. You see the mission.

They see the sacrifice. You see the opportunity to follow Jesus.

And this is where Christian maturity becomes so important. Paul doesn't despise their love. He doesn't shame them for caring. He simply refuses to allow their emotional attachment to become the authority for his obedience.

Paul says, in effect:

“I love you. Your tears matter to me. But I cannot disobey Jesus simply because you are afraid of what obedience might cost me.”

Sometimes Love Has to Let Go

Verse 14 is one of the most beautiful moments in the passage:

“Since he would not be persuaded, we said no more except, ‘The Lord’s will be done.’”

Do you see what happened? They stopped trying to convince him. They surrendered him. They had wanted Paul to stay. But eventually they were willing to say: “The Lord’s will be done.”

That's love.

Sometimes loving someone means letting them go where God is calling them, even when you desperately wish they would stay. The church walks with Paul. They weep with Paul. They pray with Paul. And then they release Paul. They don't pretend that suffering doesn't hurt.

Gospel maturity doesn't eliminate emotion. But mature Christian love ultimately wants something more for another person than our own comfort with their presence. It wants their obedience to Jesus.

This teaches us something incredibly important: The highest form of love is helping people obey Jesus.

Sometimes that means going with them. Sometimes it means praying for them. Sometimes it means supporting them. And sometimes it means opening your hands and letting them go.

What do you say to your children when obedience to Jesus might eventually cost you your life? How do you explain that to the people you love? How do you tell your family that you aren't looking for suffering, but you aren't going to run from obedience simply because suffering might be involved?

That's the tension of Acts 21. Paul isn't chasing suffering. He's chasing Jesus. And he has settled something in his heart: Jesus is worth the cost.

That's why Paul says:

“I am ready not only to be bound but also to die in Jerusalem for the name of the Lord Jesus.”

Paul's life isn't ultimately about protecting Paul. Paul's life is about following Jesus. And that's where courage comes from. Courage is not the absence of fear. Courage is surrendering our fear to the will of God. We don't obey because we know what God is doing. We obey because we know God.

This Matters for Mission

This is especially important for the people we are praying for at Neighborhood Churches. We believe God is calling people to the difficult and forgotten places of New England. He is calling ordinary men and women to leave their comfort and familiarity to plant and revitalize churches.

That calling will sometimes be difficult for the people who love them. A mother may wonder why her son would leave a comfortable career. A father may wonder why his daughter would move her family to a neighborhood that feels less safe. Grandparents may struggle to understand why their grandchildren need to grow up so far away. Friends may wonder why someone would leave a thriving church to help start something from scratch.

Sometimes the hardest conversations are not with strangers. They're with family. Because family sees the cost. They know what you're giving up. They know what could go wrong. They know what you're leaving behind. And because they love you, they may desperately want you to choose the safer road.

But Christian love always seeks the good of others.

And we must remember that the ultimate good for anyone is not their comfort. The ultimate good is that they are in the middle of God's will.

That's true for our children. It's true for our spouses. It's true for our friends. It's true for our missionaries. And it's true for us.

Sometimes the most loving thing we can say to someone we love is not, “Please stay.”

Sometimes it is: “Go. Follow Jesus. We will be praying for you.”

And sometimes the most faithful thing we can do is what these believers did with Paul, entrust them to God: “The Lord’s will be done.”

That is the posture of a church that understands mission. We don't send people because we don't love them. We send them because we do.

We don't ask people to count the cost because we don't care about their lives. We ask them to count the cost because Jesus is worth it.

And when God calls someone we love to a difficult place, we may have to learn what Paul's friends eventually learned: Our job is not to keep them safe from every hardship. Our job is to help them faithfully follow Jesus wherever He leads.

Because sometimes the greatest expression of love isn't holding someone close. Sometimes it's opening our hands and saying, “The Lord's will be done.”