Have you ever met a person who is really good at saying "no?" Aren't they annoying!! I say that not for the reasons you might assume, but because I have a hard time saying "no." As a parent of two young boys, the word "no" seems to fly out of my mouth - contradicting my previous statement. It seems that many of their decisions aren't a good idea. They simply would not result in their good. But once the relationship is different, I find it increasingly difficult to say "no." Again, this might not be for the reasons you think.
There is a fine art to saying "no." This word could be used out of self-centeredness, rejecting the needs of others in preference to my own desires. I can say "no" as a way of being mean to another person, denying their request as a way of causing them discomfort or pain. I can even use this tiny word to isolate a person in contempt, keeping them on the outside of my circle of friends. But the word "no" can also be used as a way to move in redemptive love towards another person. When I say "no" to my son because he is about to leap off the coffee table and onto his head, "no" is a loving response. When I say "no" to a request to spend more time at work when I should be at home, "no" is a loving response.
But here is the rub, sometimes I feel guitly saying "no." If I'm honest with myself, I'm concerned that if I don't do what that person wants then they will be upset with me. So, all to often, I say "yes" as a way to manage their opinion of me. And in saying "yes" I end up saying "no" to what is truly good.
I had a situation recently where I had to say "no" to another person. Their request was sincere and heartfelt, but I simply could not say "yes" and move in redemptive love towards them at the same time. In fact, as best as I could tell, if I was to move in love towards them I had to say "no."
God, it appears, has mastered the fine art of saying "no." As he moves in redemptive love toward us, it is necessary for him to say "no" to some of the things we desire. Not because he enjoys our misery or disappointment, but because he is working for our ultimate good.
I'm not sure if saying "no" will ever feel good to me. But as I am the recipient of God's movements of redemptive love towards me, I find that his "no" carries with it the tender embrace of a loving Father who only says "yes" to my good.
There is a fine art to saying "no." This word could be used out of self-centeredness, rejecting the needs of others in preference to my own desires. I can say "no" as a way of being mean to another person, denying their request as a way of causing them discomfort or pain. I can even use this tiny word to isolate a person in contempt, keeping them on the outside of my circle of friends. But the word "no" can also be used as a way to move in redemptive love towards another person. When I say "no" to my son because he is about to leap off the coffee table and onto his head, "no" is a loving response. When I say "no" to a request to spend more time at work when I should be at home, "no" is a loving response.
But here is the rub, sometimes I feel guitly saying "no." If I'm honest with myself, I'm concerned that if I don't do what that person wants then they will be upset with me. So, all to often, I say "yes" as a way to manage their opinion of me. And in saying "yes" I end up saying "no" to what is truly good.
I had a situation recently where I had to say "no" to another person. Their request was sincere and heartfelt, but I simply could not say "yes" and move in redemptive love towards them at the same time. In fact, as best as I could tell, if I was to move in love towards them I had to say "no."
God, it appears, has mastered the fine art of saying "no." As he moves in redemptive love toward us, it is necessary for him to say "no" to some of the things we desire. Not because he enjoys our misery or disappointment, but because he is working for our ultimate good.
I'm not sure if saying "no" will ever feel good to me. But as I am the recipient of God's movements of redemptive love towards me, I find that his "no" carries with it the tender embrace of a loving Father who only says "yes" to my good.
