The path that only opens when you walk

Sometimes the most valuable lessons are those you don't really see coming. You know those moments: your agenda is packed, your head is full of a thousand-and-one other things, and suddenly a moral obligation knocks on the door. Last weekend was such a moment for me. It was a moment when my own resistance looked me straight in the eye, and in which I was able to rediscover how the mechanics of faith and action truly intertwine.

The human reflex towards efficiency

It started simply. One of the members of our church community needed help. Logistically, that was quite a challenge. It meant I would be in the car for hours, would have to rush incredibly, and would completely disrupt my carefully planned weekend.

I'll be very honest with you: I personally wasn't keen on the drive.

My first reaction was therefore to see if we couldn't organize this differently. I consulted with other members of the bishopric: 'Could someone else step in? Is there another way to solve this so that I don't have to cover that whole distance?' It was a logical search for an alternative, driven by the pressure of my own schedule. I even brought the situation to prayer, hoping that another solution would emerge or that someone else would take on the task. But everyone had a busyschedule. The task might end up with someone who might be able to step in, but at the expense of their own planning, and I didn't want that.

The threshold of duty

It is a lesson in humility to recognize that we often only ask for help when we actually want our problems solved for us, rather than with us. We hope for an outcome that spares our comfort, instead of the strength to make the sacrifice.

That silence in my prayer was telling. It was only when I stopped looking for alternative routes and confronted myself that something changed. I said to myself: 'Okay, David. This is simply your duty. You have a responsibility, you are a bishop and a disciple. Be willing to go and do what is necessary.'

At that moment, something shifted within me. The inner discussion gave way to willingness. I wasn't on my way yet, I hadn't driven a single kilometer, but the decision had been made. I was willing to pay the price of my time and energy.

The paradox of the solution

And then the miraculous happened — and this is the point I often still look at with amazement. As soon as the inner readiness was there, the way opened up. Suddenly, almost out of nowhere, another possibility presented itself. A solution emerged that allowed the help to be offered without me having to turn my entire schedule upside down.

It seems like a paradox: the solution only came when I was willing to tackle the problem in the most difficult way.

Often we make the mistake of thinking that believing means we have a 'genie in a bottle' at our disposal. A kind of heavenly concierge who sweeps the path for us so we never stumble over a stone. But that's not how faith works. Faith is not a passive insurance policy; it is an active companion who only walks beside you once you've put on your hiking boots.

The reinforcing circle of faith and action

What I learned again this weekend is that there is a specific order in how we achieve spiritual and even professional results. It is a self-reinforcing circle:

1. Willingness to act: This is ground zero. It is the moment you stop managing circumstances and accept that you have to get to work.
2. Asking for and receiving help: As soon as you are willing, your request for help takes on a different meaning. You no longer ask for an easy way out, but for strength for the path you are taking.
3. The action itself: You spring into action. You take that first step.
4. The result and the reinforcement: Because you move, you see results. You see that the path opens up. And that visible result feeds your faith for the next time.

It's an upward spiral. The more often you experience that action leads to support, the greater your confidence becomes to say 'yes' to a challenge faster next time. Your faith doesn't grow by philosophizing about it; it grows through the muscle power of your own deeds.

A lesson in humility

I'm not sharing this because I have it all perfectly mastered. On the contrary. I'm sharing this because this weekend I caught myself realizing how quickly we tend to look for the easy way out before testing our own willingness.

The lesson is that our Heavenly Father wants to support and help us, but He almost always does so in the context of our own effort. He is the wind in our sails, but we must first hoist the sails and take the helm.

So don't wait for the mountain to disappear before you start climbing. Be willing to act. Take action. And then watch how the path forms under your feet.