When
our son Ben announced that he was running for
student council vice president, I thought, What
chance does he have to win as a fifth grader in
this large elementary school, with a number of
six graders also vying for the spot? Yet he
waged a good campaign, and to our surprise and
delight he won. Then, on the strength of that
gain, he ran for president the following year and
again was successful. I'm certain that there were
other students at least as well qualified as Ben
who would have liked to serve in these positions.
Yet there was one critical difference: Ben ran
and they didn't. He was optimistic enough to
think he could win, and in the end his
availability was the deciding factor.
I'm often intrigued with what a
potent role our availability plays in what we
accomplish. "Fifty percent of success is
showing up," as it is said. This isn't to
say that ability, potential and social skills are
unimportant in success. Yet when we consider
God's working in human life, it seems that he
uses our availability at least as much as these
other traits in opening doors.
This point is helpful to remember
when we feel hesitant to take steps of faith.
Because of inferiority or a sense of
insignificance we may fail to knock on doors
which actually would open to us. We're especially
prone to hold back if we know that many others
are available to meet a need or interested in the
same goal we want to pursue. We assume that our
efforts won't be as successful as theirs or that
what we have to contribute isn't really needed.
In our modern densely populated
world it's all too easy to fall into such
futility about life itself. What can I possibly
do that will make a difference?
How Availability Enhances Our
Potential
Yet three points are critical to
keep in mind. One is that others often are not
nearly as available for opportunities or as alert
to them as we think. This point is shown in a
surprising observation by sociologists. They note
that someone with an emergency need in public is
less likely to receive assistance if a crowd is
present than if only a few people are nearby. The
reason is that in a large group each person
assumes that someone else will take
responsibility--so no one does. The sense of
individual accountability is greatly reduced.
This explains those bizarre news stories we
sometimes hear about someone being assaulted in
front of a crowd while no one offers help. Merely
making an anonymous phone call for help might
have made the difference for the victim.
The second point is that
God--again to cite the popular expression--can do
a lot with a little when he has all there is of
it. This principle is graphically demonstrated in
the feeding miracles of the Gospels. In John's
account of one of them (John 6:1-14), he mentions
that a young boy actually made several fish and
loaves available to Jesus to feed the vast crowd,
by letting Jesus' disciple Andrew to offer them
to Jesus. Through his availability this boy
helped feed a multitude of thousands.
Of course, our hesitancy in the
face of opportunity is often like Andrew's, who
when presenting the boy's provisions to Jesus,
complained, "but what are they among so
many?" (v. 9 RSV) The incident reminds us,
though, that Christ's power is manifested through
our mere availability in ways that far transcend
our potential or meager resources.
The third point is that God has
put each of us on earth to accomplish certain
purposes and carry out certain work for which no
one else is as well equipped. As we carefully
seek his direction, we can know that our efforts
are distinctive and significant to the work
Christ is doing in the world.
We may trust, then, that through
our availability alone we are beginning from a
position of strength in what we do. By being
available we open ourselves to the miraculous
working of Christ.
Three Areas Where Availability
Helps
Let's consider further how the
availability factor relates to several major
areas of life.
Seeking
opportunities to use our gifts. When
looking for professional opportunities or other
ways to employ our gifts, we easily become
discouraged, thinking, "The best
opportunities won't be open to me" or,
"What can I do that others can't do just as
well?" Yet the availability factor suggests
that unmet opportunities may be far more
plentiful than we think, and God's willingness to
work through us at these points may be much
greater than we realize.
Consider David's decision to
fight Goliath. His conviction that he could
tackle the giant sprang from recalling his
success as a shepherd fighting wild animals with
a sling (1 Sam 17:34-37). Since God's glory was
now at stake, David assumed that God would give
victory through this skill already so evident in
his life. Yet thousands of Israelite soldiers had
also been shepherds or hunters and had confronted
ravenous animals just as David did. They had the
identical basis for concluding that they could
successfully battle Goliath. But none of them
made this connection. Not one. David alone
was able to see the situation with the eyes of
faith.
David's example suggests that
exceptional opportunities for using our gifts can
exist which others simply don't recognize. We're
given a basis for hope and optimism as we seek to
realize our potential for Christ.
Seeking
relationships and marriage. The
availability factor also gives hope to those of
us who are eager for a serious relationship or
marriage. I speak with many singles in their
twenties, thirties or beyond who fear that
marriage has passed them by. "Anyone whom I
would want to marry is surely spoken for
already," someone will say. Yet I'm
convinced that the options for finding marriage
are much greater than many realize.
Studies show, too, that most
people end up marrying someone in close proximity
to them. It may be a person with whom they work,
attend school or come into contact frequently in
church or another social setting. There is little
basis for the notion that "absence makes the
heart grow fonder." It is naive, too, to
assume, "My prince/princess will come to my
doorstep even though I make no effort to find
this person." It is proximity that
contributes to the growth of a relationship.
Understanding the role which
proximity plays in relationships presents me with
a challenge if I want to be married. It suggests
that I need to put myself in settings where I'm
likely to meet someone suitable. Yet I may take
encouragement in knowing that if a relationship
does develop, my availability will be a prime
factor allowing God to arouse that person's
interest in me. Simply being available is a step
in the right direction if I want to find a
partner.
Consider the example of Ruth in
the Book of Ruth. She had a lot going against her
in her relationship with Boaz. She was a
foreigner, a widow and not well off financially.
Yet she was available for marriage, and she
discreetly but clearly let him know (Ruth
3:1-13). The rest is history.
Praying
effectively. While much more could be
said about the role of availability in using our
gifts and seeking relationships, it's the area of
prayer where I find this phenomenon most
interesting. We easily become discouraged about
the potential of our own prayers. With so many
Christians praying about so many matters, what
difference will my prayers make? or, I've
prayed about this for two years--if God hasn't
answered by now, I might as well give up.
We tend to regard prayer much as
we do the right to vote. While we consider it a
great privilege, we doubt that our individual
effort has much consequence. But while the voting
analogy may accurately describe how we feel
about prayer, it doesn't depict the actual
potential of prayer well at all. Scripture
emphasizes that the effect of one person's prayer
can be far-reaching.
This point impressed me
forcefully some years ago while I was studying an
unlikely portion of Scripture--1 Chronicles. I
began my study of the book dutifully plodding
through the seemingly endless genealogies which
make up the first nine chapters, not expecting
any deep inspiration or exceptional insights. I
decided to read these chapters carefully, though.
They are part of the history which the Holy
Spirit has recorded, I reasoned, and I may miss
some critical insight if I merely peruse them.
This scrutiny paid off, for in
chapter four I encountered a remarkable statement
which I had never noticed before. The writer
notes that a woman gave birth to a son and named
him Jabez, which sounds like the Hebrew word for
pain, because his birth had been painful to her.
This man "was more honorable than his
brothers." One further detail is added about
his life: "Jabez cried out to the God of
Israel, 'Oh, that you would bless me and enlarge
my territory! Let your hand be with me, and keep
me from harm so that I will be free from pain.'
And God granted his request" (1 Chron
4:9-10). He whose name was Pain wanted God to
protect him from a life of pain.
I was fascinated that the author
thought it important to note that a man who is
not mentioned elsewhere in Scripture prayed to
God about a personal need. Why does he document
this detail about Jabez's life, when he lists
most of the other multitude of names in his
genealogy without editorial comment?
The answer, I concluded, is that
it is unusual for someone to petition God
seriously about a need. It is history when
one does so. Prayer itself is a miracle in
the biblical understanding. The miracle is not
that God answers the prayer--God is in the
business of answering prayer. "And God
granted his request." The miracle is that a
person prays in the first place! Jabez was out of
the ordinary.
When we have given serious
attention to praying about a matter, we can trust
that our prayer is effective and that our
effort to pray is truly distinctive. We have done
something few make the time to do earnestly. And
we will receive benefits few position themselves
to enjoy. While we cannot predict precisely how
God will answer our prayer, we can be confident
that things will be better because we have prayed
and have opened ourselves more fully to his
provision.
Here is a way in which each of us
can have significant influence not only on the
affairs of our own life but upon the movement of
Christ in the world. As nineteenth century
African pastor Andrew Murray expressed it:
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