Challenges

I like to be challenged. People lay challenges out before me often, and almost one hundred percent of the time, I will take their challenge, even if it is totally ludicrous.

When I was a freshman in high school, my soccer team traveled far away to a soccer game and got snowed in. Because the game was so far away and there was so much snow, the school decided it made more sense for us to stay up there over night than for us to drive back to the school and then have to return the next day to play. As high school boys do, we settled down to a lovely evening of general merriment. Cards came out, food was purchased, and various other boyish activities took place.

In the midst of the jollity, a friend of mine mentioned how it was impossible to lick your elbow. I, always loving challenges and seeking one for the evening, contested this fact. The two of us went back and forth for a bit before I decided to just prove to him that I could in fact lick my elbow. Now, between you and me, I had never even thought about attempting to lick my elbow before this moment in my life, but I was fairly certain that I could do it.

Everyone reading this right now is expecting me to write a paragraph right here about how I failed miserably in my quest, but sadly, you will be disappointed. Instead, I moved my elbow up, stuck my tongue out, and licked the end of it, much to the amazement of my teammates.

That is sort of a silly challenge, but it is the sort of challenge that I love. It is a challenge to do something impossible. I think I would be a great candidate to replace the guys on Mythbusters when they decide to retire because I am an eternal skeptic who loves to defy absolute impossibilities. When Mythbusters proved that it was, in fact, possible to fold a piece of paper more than seven times, I was thrilled because even though it spoils some fun fact fiascos, it proves once again how something impossible is possible to a sufficiently determined opponent.
Another ridiculous challenge came my way when I was in high school. An English teacher challenged me to write a paragraph of at least one hundred words that contained no repeated words. Certain words are easy to not repeat, but words like “an,” “a,” “the” and so forth are tremendously difficult to avoid reiterating. It took me a few minutes, but I eventually formed this, a one hundred forty one word paragraph with no repeated words:

“Once, when blackness became shrouded in darkness, tiny, feeble creatures emerged from nowhere, hoping to capture innocence with dignity. Haste was utmost importance, but there is no way that theft can be rushed. Yet, the odd thing visible through this matter becomes clearer as daylight dwindles. Figures masked furthermore having murky capes were not ones for fear, nor did they invoke harm. Merely and humbly, all these saviors held by black saved us at very last seconds. Creeping among flora, peculiar beings retreated fiercely homeward, so we could live forever on peaceful earth, without dreading death plus destruction. Abroad, threats exist still. Nothing will ever stop such ghastly beasts, or perhaps something shall destroy them after our time. Either living mortal may prevail, else loss wins. Rebirth separate of bullying solely brings licensed freedom. Life shares common space amongst love alone.”

Perhaps it’s not the most coherent paragraph you have ever read, but it works, and it won me my challenge.

It occurs to me, though, that humans routinely do things that are considered nearly impossible simply because they’re challenged. The Mythbusters guys have made a fine living out of disproving impossibilities. The fact of the matter is that people succeed at almost everything they are given to do if they put enough time, effort, and money into it. It boggles my mind, then, when I consider that God can do things greatly beyond our ability.

He is not limited in His creative power. Nothing presents itself to God as a challenge. Man may be able to move mountains, but it takes him years and billions of dollars and loads of manpower. God merely speaks, and entire mountain ranges are demolished or formed. It makes me stop in awe when I consider the works that God can do.

There are no challenges to God. He finds nothing difficult. That gives me great comfort, because when I finally find things that cannot be done by man or when there are insurmountable obstacles in my path, it means I can lean on Jesus. Whatever challenge I’m facing that day looks like child’s play to a limitless God. It gives me hope to know that nothing challenges my God.

My challenges to God seem huge in my eyes, but God picks them up without batting an eyelash. For example, when I worry about how I’m going to pay for college, I’m reminded that He owns the cattle on a thousand hills and the hills the cattle are standing on. When I’m worried about how I’m going to get all my work done, I’m reminded that He created work and time, and He is perfectly capable of weaving the two together.

God is not one who responds well to challenges because that would be questioning His sovereignty, but He is one who frequently does the impossible out of love for His children. Look at some of the cooler military examples from the Old Testament. When Gideon needed to rail on the Midianites and the Amalekites, God managed to do it without lifting a sword. Hezekiah was looking at Sennacherib’s army and seeing certain defeat; then God decided it would be best if a pagan king did not destroy His chosen people on this particular occasion, and He routed the giant army.

Then of course there was the whole deal where God reached down and picked up this helpless sinner out of a pile of sin, giving Him the righteousness of Jesus Christ. That alone was pretty impossible, but God is the God of challenges.

He does things that are impossible routinely.

So cast all your cares upon Him, for He alone can care for you.


(oh, and comment, would you? :-) )