"What Does It Look Like to Obey God?"
Recently, I sat down for coffee with a couple of women from my church. In the middle of our conversation, one of the young ladies asked, “What does it look like to obey God?”
I smiled, because in true God-fashion, He often reinforces what He’s been teaching me through the questions and voices of others. In the months leading up to that conversation, I had been wrestling—really wrestling—with fasting. For the past three years, I’ve heard God consistently emphasizing the importance of fasting and seeking Him intentionally. Yet, almost every time I attempted to fast, I struggled. Sometimes I succeeded, but honestly, more often I did not.
It has felt—if I’m being transparent—unfair to be asked to let go of something. I’ve found myself revisiting the same ancient question whispered in the garden: “Did God really say…?”
It’s interesting how easily we can repeat patterns, even when we’ve been warned through scripture, through prayer, through gentle nudges, and through the many ways God chooses to get our attention. Wrestling with whether or not “God really said” creates space for hesitation—an internal loophole that allows us to delay obedience.
But what if I chose, instead of wrestling, to simply answer:
“Yes, He did say that.”
What if the true issue isn’t about hearing God clearly—but about being willing to trust Him completely?
This brings me to a deeper question: Do I really believe that God, as a good and loving Father, only wants the best for me—and that what He asks of me leads to my best possible outcome?
A loving Father gives instruction and correction—not to punish, but to guide, protect, and nurture. Proverbs 3:11-12 reminds us:
“My son, do not reject the discipline of the Lord or loathe His reproof, for whom the Lord loves He reproves, even as a father corrects the son in whom he delights.”
The question is not just will I obey?
The real question is: Will I receive His love, even when it comes as instruction or correction?
As I write these words to you, I hear my Father continuing to speak through Proverbs 3:1-10—inviting me (and maybe inviting you, too) to trust His teaching, to bind His wisdom and mercy to our hearts, and to confidently rely on Him rather than our own understanding.
Obedience isn’t about proving our strength. It’s about resting in His. It’s about knowing we don’t have to be strong in front of Abba. He is our safe place—a place of hearing and healing.
And if your experiences have taught you to view “fatherhood” through the lens of absence, inconsistency, or hurt, I understand how difficult it can be to accept God as the Father He truly is. But He remains the One who corrects because He delights, who instructs because He loves.
The relationship between a good Father and His daughter is marked by instruction that is not only heard—but cherished and obeyed.
I’m learning, little by little, to say yes.
