How To Tell If You’re Settling

“When is it okay to settle?” was the question we were pondering walking along the beach a few months back. We were both in the midst of hoping for things, and we were looking for a timeline of either getting the hoped for souvenir or having permission to let it go and take second best. We saw other people who we thought were settling for less, and we wondered if our standards were too high. We wanted a clear answer, and after months of having this lingering question, I think the answer is never.

The Israelites were the first to fall into the temptation of giving up faith and settling for less than what God had for them. They were given a promise, but they were scared of the unknown, the journey, the process, and they wanted to settle for slavery. Thankfully, they had Moses who refused to let them settle. I’m not saying every gift God has for us is going to be sparkling and presented with a beautiful bow, but settling is rushing the process and taking something before God wants to give it to you. For the Israelites, their process was long, painful, and exhausting, as waiting for promises to be fulfilled often is.

In Revelations, God tells the Church in Laodicea that because they were neither hot or cold, he will spit them out. They thought they were rich and didn’t need anything; instead, they missed all God had to give them. And in their settling for less, they turned lukewarm.

I’m starting to believe that not only does God not want us to settle, but settling is actually a sin.

In our choice to settle, we pridefully tell The Lord, “No, I’m fine. I know what I want more than you do. I’m capable of making it happen. I got this.”

So what do we do? We settle. We take that job that we hate, because at least it’s a job. We stick with our major, because we’ve already put this much work into it. We date the guy or the girl who is perfect on paper, but deep down we know there’s something off. We pack up and move before we’re ready, because it’s just a matter of time before this place stops being good. We rush into forcing our dreams to happen, because we think we’ll run out of time if we don’t.

We settle for good enough, because we don’t believe we’ll actually get the very best.

Settling feels like drinking weak tea, eating fruit that isn’t ripe yet, going to the beach in the winter, or taking a black and white picture of a sunset. It gets the job done, but you know it’s just not right.

Recently, The Lord told me to give him back my dreams. For three years, he told me to dream with him. In that time, I called two different Gainesvilles home, traveled to 17 different countries, learned from old friends and new friends, got a job, moved across state lines, graduated from college, and got accepted to grad schools. God used all of those things to whisper my passions to me. Three years later, and I could finally tell you what my dreams were. But when it looked like I was at a place where I could start pursuing them, God told me no. He told me to give him back my dreams, and to stay. I sent the emails that said thanks for the opportunity but not thanks. With a deep breath and shaking hands, I gave him my dreams.

My dreams aren’t on hold; I’m not even touching them. God has them, and he can do whatever he wants. The reality is, I might not get those dreams. I think I will, but I’m not promised them. And that’s terrifying. As much as I do trust the lord, there’s a lie that asks “what if God leaves you empty handed?”

We believe this lie that God isn’t good. We think he’s going to give us lessons in tough love and disappointment instead of grace and joy. We believe that he doesn’t have the best for us, and he’s going to leave us out to dry.

But my current favorite quote reminds me “God doesn’t hang a carrot in front of us.”

The thing about settling is that it’s the opposite of faith. Faith is believing in things, hoping for things, we don’t see yet. Settling is grabbing the first thing you see and clingy to its evidence. Faith produces hope; settling comes from fear and a need to control. Faith is risking either being hot or cold, where as settling is choosing to be lukewarm.

The people I know who are full of faith say yes to God daily. But they also say no pretty frequently. They say no to something good to wait for the something that’s best. They know pain, wrestle with the fear of disappointment, and even have days of doubt. But they know who their God is, and they are confident resting in his goodness.

I want to surround myself with these people who refuse to settle. I need them to remind me that God uses processes just as much as the promise. I need people to tell me to ask The Lord to make my desires stronger instead of asking him to take them away. I need people who will risk our friendship to tell me when I’m making a stupid decision. I need people who are going to hold me to a higher standard, look for the evidence of my faith, and speak God’s goodness over me everyday.

We all need a Moses in our life, or if you’re like me, I need lots of them. There are always going to be times when we’re ready to give up faith, when our hopes seem too high, and the process to the promise looks too long. Those are times we’re tempted to settle and go back to slavery. Instead, we need people who will push us further to The Lord even when it looks like wandering into a desert. Full of faith, we walk forward. We refuse to settle.