It's been taking a while because I only do Bible-reading quiet times on weekdays (I have no good reason for this) and I'm reading the book alongside the Matthew Henry commentary, which breaks each chapter into chunks and expounds on each chunk at great length. Plus, sometimes Mr. Henry--or Prophet Isaiah himself--loses me, and I have to reread to get the point. Although it's been a slow, drawn-out exercise, it's been good overall. Day to day I don't necessarily feel the words move me, but when I reflect on the span of time since I started studying Isaiah, I do see how my faith in God has deepened through this study of His relationship with His chosen people.
Very occasionally, something either in the text or in the commentary jumps out at me and grabs my attention. It happened about a week and a half ago, before I went on vacation (oh yeah - I also am very bad about doing Bible reading while on vacation, another habit for which I have no good reason), and again yesterday because I had to reread the section to refresh my memory. The paragraph that stuck out to me is this:
The exposition of this sign, Isa. 20:3,4. It was intended to signify that the Egyptians and the Ethiopians should be led away captive by the king of Assyria, thus stripped, or in rags, and very shabby clothing, as Isaiah was. God calls him his servant Isaiah, because in this matter particularly he had approved himself God's willing, faithful, obedient servant; and for this very thing, which perhaps others laughed at him for, God gloried in him. To obey is better than sacrifice; it pleases god and praises him more, and shall be more praised by him.
This always sticks out to me because I often think of sacrifice as a sign of obedience, as a sign that proves that obedience is present. While this is often accurate, it can be dangerously misleading and lead to an act-centered, self-flagellating life that may not in fact bring any glory to God, or please Him in the least. The trouble with conflating the cause and effect is that if I simply look at sacrifice as evidence of obedience, then I may very well simply stop listening for God's will or straining to hear His voice, and skip right ahead to a bunch of sacrifices, thinking (erroneously) that I am serving Him at His pleasure. I run the risk of planting a field of flowers (thinking that toiling in the field is obedience) when my God is actually trying to raise up a farm with crops and livestock that actually feeds people.
I want to pay better attention. I need to stop equating sacrifice with obedience. I need to be willing to sacrifice, but also be ready to take cues for rest or change.
I think about this mostly in the context of Mr. Squire and his work. Shortly after we met, he left a cushy job in finance and took up the cause of teaching in the inner city, believing that to be God's true call for his life. I couldn't be prouder of him and run the risk of being boastful every time I share about what he does and what his story has been. He is my hero in a way, because I think his choices and sacrifices speak of the goodness of God and His heart for those who have so little.
The dark side of all of this is that now, four years in, the job is cutting away years of Mr. Squire's life, day by day. He is a different person during the school year, often mirthless and listless. There have been periods when I seriously thought he should seek help for depression. I know he is pretty good with the kids, because I have gone to visit his school, and I see the interactions he has with his students and their parents. He obviously knows them very well, and has earned the trust of many. But somehow, despite our daily prayers (and my pleading) that God would please give Mr. Squire the strength and energy and love for the kids that he needs to get through each day, lately Mr. Squire has talked seriously about quitting. It makes me really sad... sad for the kids who really could use a good male role model. Sad for Mr. Squire missing out on a chance to impact more lives. Sad for me, because does this mean my hero is turning in his cape? (He'll remain my hero in many other ways, but this is a big one to let go of.)
Beyond that, though, I also worry about whether, by leaving teaching, Mr. Squire will be disobeying God. I worry about this a lot. God lets us make mistakes, but it's not fun and in general, who wants to disobey their father? At the same time, I wonder, though, whether my concerns about Mr. Squire's obedience stem more from the fact that I really believe teaching is his calling, or if it's just because he won't be living so sacrificially (to the detriment of his health and to some extent, his relationships) anymore. This is why I want to commit to praying about what exactly God wants Mr. Squire to do...not what I like to see him doing...not what he even likes to see him doing...and not what costs the most... but what pleases God the best.
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