God is before all things, created all things, upholds all things, is above all things, owns all things, and is the rightful ruler of all things. “Whatever the LORD pleases, he does, in heaven and on earth, in the seas and all deeps” (Psalm 135:6).

We call this the sovereignty of God. He is in control, which is good to understand, for we are not. So much of what determines the shape of our lives is entirely out of our control. Our birthplace, our parentage, our childhood, our health, our key relationships, our competencies, and our giftings are but a small sampling of the elements we do not entirely decide for ourselves. Factors outside of us often determine the flavor of our lives. Though we might live in a generation that preaches self-determinism, the reality is that there is much we cannot decide.

In the next movement of David’s life, God is in control, while David is not (read 1 Samuel 20). He lacks control. Saul lay in a prophetic stupor in Naoith, so David ran to Jonathan. To Jonathan, David wondered if he was guilty of some crime that justified Saul in wanting to take his life. Unaware of the assassination attempt that Michal rescued David from, Jonathan assured David that he would know if his own father wanted to kill his friend. David, losing the confidence he’d had on the battlefield against Goliath, tried to convince Jonathan that there was but a step between him and death. He felt the promise of God, the calling and anointing to be the next king of Israel, was slipping. He felt death was calling for him.

Convinced by David’s apparent desperation, Jonathan committed to helping David find whatever he needed to feel safe. David devised a plot, one in which he asked Jonathan to lie on his behalf by telling Saul that David was in Bethlehem for the new moon feast, rather than with Jonathan and Saul, as was their custom. Jonathan agreed, telling David to wait by the stone heap in the field for the next three days. He would reappear at that time, under the guise of archery practice. If he shouted to his servant boy to retrieve the arrows behind him, then David was safe. But if Jonathan shouted for his servant boy to retrieve the arrows in beyond him, then David had to flee.

With the plan set, the day for the feast arrived, and Saul and Jonathan, along with Abner, sat at the table. Saul, for the first day of the feast, said nothing about David’s empty seat. He suspected David was merely ceremonially unclean and would present himself for the second day of the feast. When his chair was empty on the next day, Saul began to interrogate Jonathan, who stuck to the script David had given him. Saul saw through it, however, and, flying into a rage, accused Jonathan of choosing David over himself. Finally, Saul produced his spear and chucked it at Jonathan. It was at this moment Jonathan knew David was correct — Saul had intended to take David’s life. Fiercely angered by Saul’s treatment of David, Jonathan departed from the feast.

The next day, in the morning, Jonathan arose with bow and arrows in hand and went to the fields. He pulled the string deeply, making sure to shoot the arrows beyond. David had to run, so he had to be certain to send the correct message. After shooting his arrows, he sent his servant to collect them. Jonathan shouted to the child, “The arrows are beyond you!” After collecting the arrows, the boy returned, and Jonathan sent him and the weapons back into Gibeah. The message was sufficient to tell David of his future, but Jonathan could not avoid embracing his friend. Once the child was gone, David emerged from the stone heap, and the two friends embraced in sorrow. David would have to live as a fugitive, a man on the run.

God Goes Into the Undesirable With Us

Twice in the story mention is made of the “stone heap” (1 Samuel 20:19, 41). Some translate it as “the rock of departure” because it was the rock from which David had to flee for his life into the wilderness. It is upon this stone heap we set our attention, for at that rock David was utterly out of control. His entire destiny, it seemed, was in the hands of another -- and a madman at that. Saul’s venom searched for its victim, and David would not be safe near such hatred. He had to wait for confirmation for three days to see if it was safe to return to Gibeah or not. When Jonathan came out and shot his arrows, David’s fears were confirmed: Saul’s hatred was irreconcilable; it could not be tamed. The thing David feared, the thing he would not have chosen, is the thing that unfolded in his life.

David’s entire life would drastically change. It was not his doing, but Saul’s. He was not at fault. In fact, he had served as the hero of Israel, laying his life down for God’s flock. But all that was of no consequence now. Still, God would go with His man. The years in front of David would become some of the most meaningful years of his life. Only in the pains of life can one come to write, “Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me” (Psalm 23:4). In the fires of undesirable trials, God would stand with David, comforting and carrying him through each new obstacle.

The good news of Jesus Christ shows us that God went into the undesirable for us. The Son embraced the cross, and the Father sent His Son. The cross was all pain, pain of every sort. The Romans had perfected it in order to bring about the deepest physical pain. Inhumanely, a person could take a week to die on a cross. The pain was insufferable. But Jesus’ pain on the cross went well beyond the physical realm, into the psychological. There, on the cross, Jesus became sin for us (2 Corinthians 5:21). All the crimes and greed and lusts and perversions and hatred of humanity came crashing down upon Jesus while He died upon the cross. He bore the sin of humanity — alone — taking into His body all our shame, guilt, and abominable acts. He drank the cup the Father sent Him to drink, the cup of judgment for all humanity.

Since God went into the undesirable for us, we can stand convinced that He will certainly go into the undesirable with us. Christianity is not made to work only if you get the joys and pleasures of life — the American Dream, per se. No, the cross makes Christianity work in the fires and floods of life. “When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and through the rivers, they shall not overwhelm you; when you walk through the fire you shall not be burned, and the flame shall not consume you” (Isaiah 43:2).

There are pains in life that no man would choose but are nonetheless outside our control to choose against. Sicknesses find us. Undesirable attractions come upon us. Mental illness grows within us. Poverty calls for us. Many trials of life are unavoidable, painful experiences God must stand with us in. “I am with you always, even to the end of the age,” Jesus said (Matthew 28:20). He is with His children in all the valleys of life, for He goes with us into the undesirable.

God Uses the Undesirable To Eliminate Other Dependencies

In his wilderness flight, David had to cling to God alone. Remember, David could see the logical pathway to God’s promises. Anointed by Samuel, David had been called almost immediately to serve as Saul’s musician, calming Saul’s troubled mind with his harp. The next step was a massive one, for God had given him victory over Goliath. Now all of Israel had discovered what Samul had announced in private — that David was made of kingly stuff. Soon after his battle against Goliath, the king’s son became a close friend and confidant, and the king’s daughter became his bride. Everything, it seemed, was working according to plan. Surely, the day would come when Saul would tire of the throne and offer the crown to David. All of Israel would rejoice.

But this was not the plan of God. Saul was not prepared to hand the crown to anyone, for he clutched the throne up to his final breath. His hatred of anyone who would take the position from him stirred him to jealousy against David. The route David might’ve seen was eliminated by Saul and his madness. As Saul raged, David learned he needed God alone. Through this next season, a season alone and on the run in the wilderness, David’s dependence upon everything and everyone else decreased, while his dependence upon God only grew.

Listen to the songs of this man: “For God alone my soul waits in silence; from him comes my salvation. He alone is my rock and my salvation, my fortress; I shall not be greatly shaken” (Psalm 62:1-2). He knew He could only find salvation from God, so for God alone, he waited in silence. He wrote, “The LORD is my shepherd; I shall not want” (Psalm 23:1). No one can write a line like that unless they have felt what it is like to have all other dependencies stripped from them, only to discover all they needed was God. With God, David sang, I have no wants. God was his satisfaction.

God will use the fire of the undesirable to burn away our dependence upon anything and everyone else. Our trials are there to prove “the tested genuineness of our faith,” a faith “more precious than gold that perishes though it is tested by fire” (1 Peter 1:7). We might dream of a faith that trusts and leans and depends upon God alone, but trials help us get there.

To the Samaritan woman at the well, Jesus offered living water. She would “never be thirsty again,” Jesus told her (John 4:13). The water he would give would become “a spring of water welling up to eternal life” (John 4:14). The woman, unable to discern Jesus’ meaning, so she spoke to Jesus of the well they were seated around, a well Jacob had dug many years earlier. Jesus, sensing her lack of understanding, told her to call her husband (John 4:16). “I have no husband,” she answered him (John 14:17). “Jesus said to her, ‘You are right in saying, ‘I have no husband’; for you have had five husbands, and the one you now have is not your husband. What you have said is true” (John 4:17-18).

Jesus did not mention the husbands to embarrass the woman, but to help her understand what He had offered her. The living water he offered her could permanently satisfy her internally. She would never thirst again. She would be able to cease her accumulation of men, men she thought would satisfy her. Jesus pointed out her past in order to reveal her thirst, a thirst Jesus alone could quench.

It is often in the pains and trials and undesirable that we learn that only God can quench our thirsts. You cannot have the true water until you cease to drink the lesser waters, but drink them we often do. “My people have committed two evils,” God said, “They have forsaken me, the fountain of living waters, and hewed out cisterns for themselves, broken cisterns that can hold no water” (Jeremiah 2:13). The first crime we commit is turning from our true source of satisfaction — God Himself — but our second crime is creating lesser sources of satisfaction. So God is willing to burn off our dependencies with the undesirable trials of life, should we allow Him.

God Invites Us To Move Into the Undesirable

At this point, at the rock of departure, David had only one way to go — forward. He could not remain at the rock, and he certainly could not go back to Gibeah. This trial had thrust him into the wilderness, into that which he had not desired.

Our Lord will often invite us to move right on into the undesirable. The enemy wishes to use our pains to stop us, but God wants to use them to propel us. We must keep moving, for it is only in the forward motion that we will enter into God’s next best for our lives. To remain at the rock, at the hurt, at the trial is of no help for our growth and sanctification.

In a sense, believers can expect God to use the undesirable events of life to propel us forward, for that is exactly what He did at the cross of Christ. The cross, undesirable in every way, actually propelled the plan of God forward. The Romans may have designed it to intimidate the peoples they suppressed, but the cross emboldened a generation to rise up and preach to the world. The cross may have been used by the religious leaders to silence the message of Christ, but it created the message of Christ. The cross was designed to silence the love and grace Jesus showed to the unfortunate and the sinners, but it actually released the love and grace of God upon unfortunate sinners. The cross was meant to keep the message of Christ from our ears, but now His message is able to reside within our hearts. The cross was meant to stop a movement, but it created one. The cross was meant to produce shame, but it deleted it. The cross was mean to wound, but it heals. The very element meant to lead to corruption and death leads to everlasting life and glory.

Yes, the cross of Christ shows us the way of God. He does not avoid the undesirable. Neither does he eliminate it, as so many think he should. Instead, He swallows it whole, redeeming it into something good and beautiful. He might do the same for us. We must move forward, for it is the only way to go. Jesus said, “No one who puts his hand to the plow and looks back is fit for the kingdom of God” (Luke 9:62). We must move forward.

God Enables Us To Choose the Undesirable

Up to this point, most believers would say yes and amen. We know and love to be reminded that God is able to use our trials for His glory. We love to be reminded that He can and will shape us with them. And we love to be encouraged to move forward in life, for it is in tomorrow that we can watch God at work.

But perhaps we should stop to ask, what is God really up to when He brings us into the undesirable? His shaping work is beautiful. So is his ability to redeem trials. But is there a deeper work, a longer plan? Perhaps God calls us into the undesirable so we can advance to a deeper degree of Christian maturity, the kind which chooses the undesirable.

Jesus said, “If anyone comes to me and does not hate his own father and mother and wife and children and brothers and sisters, yes, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple. Whoever does not bear his own cross and come after me cannot be my disciple” (Luke 14:26-27). In saying this, Jesus was teaching that a disciple’s love for Christ must be so strong it makes our other loves look small in comparison. We are, of course, taught throughout the entire Bible to love our fathers and mothers and wives and children and brothers and sisters, but our love for Christ should be so strong these other loves seem like hate. Or, to say it another way, our love for Christ should be the reason we love well in these other areas of life. Our love for Him is to bleed out into all other loves. But to really become His disciple, we must love Him supremely, even above our own lives.

After saying this, Jesus went on to ask, “Which of you, desiring to build a tower, does not first sit down and count the cost, whether he has enough to complete it? Otherwise, when he has laid a foundation and is not able to finish, all who see it begin to mock him, saying, ‘This man began to build and was not able to finish.’” (Luke 14:28–30, ESV)

Again Jesus asked, “Or what king, going out to encounter another king in war, will not sit down first and deliberate whether he is able with ten thousand to meet him who comes against him with twenty thousand? And if not, while the other is yet a great way off, he sends a delegation and asks for terms of peace.” (Luke 14:31–32, ESV)

Finally, Jesus said, “And if not, while the other is yet a great way off, he sends a delegation and asks for terms of peace. So therefore, any one of you who does not renounce all that he has cannot be my disciple.” (Luke 14:32–33, ESV)

Many have taken Jesus to mean merely, “Think twice before you become my disciple. Count the cost.” But Jesus wishes for everyone to be His disciple. Could it be He is not inviting us to count the cost, but declaring that He has counted the cost? He has something to build. He has a war to wage. He has wondered if He has the materials for that building and the soldiers for that war. But what kind of materials and soldiers does He look for? The kind that will “renounce all that he has” (Luke 14:33). The kind that will “bear his own cross and come after” Jesus (Luke 14:27). The kind that will, at times, when He beckons, choose the undesirable.

Perhaps all our trials and pains are designed to bring us to the glorious place where we would actually choose the pain in obedience to Christ. Perhaps we should be able to look backward and see the deep pains and hurts, but mostly God’s faithfulness, and become emboldened that if He stood with us then, He will stand with us tomorrow. And if He will stand with us, then perhaps we can choose the hardship for His honor and glory. Someone, after all, must plant the next churches, adopt the children, and aid the poor. Someone must die so that others might live. Perhaps all our ventures into the undesirable are designed to help us be those people, the ones who choose to die. If we do, we know this: as we lose our lives, we will find them.