Learning

Do you play a musical instrument? Do you knit, crochet, sew, cook or drive? Did someone teach you these skills or did you do it on your own? Has anyone ever suggested that you do any of them differently than you learned?
I am an autodidact. I teach myself, and that's not always a good thing. When I was in elementary school, I began teaching myself to type on an ancient Underwood typewriter. I had an instruction manual so I learned to start with my fingers on ASDF JKL; but it wasn't long before I was banging on most of the other keys without much regard to which finger was supposed to strike them. I have also taken lessons. One of the big differences between teaching yourself and taking lessons is that someone else is in control. Someone else sets the pace, watches, corrects and guides. While we chafe at the discipline and method, the teachers knows its benefits.
You might find yourself resenting the discipline of a study system like the one that Ann Graham Lotz teaches. You may want to study Scripture your own way or use another system. You may be tempted to refuse to do something at all if you can't do it the way you want. I was. As I grumbled about the restrictions of the study method presented by Mrs. Lotz, a couple truths came to mind. First, being able to do things more than one way can be useful. We aren't locked into a method just because we learn it. We don't have to use it for the rest of eternity. There may be things about her method that we discard. There may be things about her method that prove invaluable. Secondly, I realized that my struggle wasn't with studying the Bible or right and wrong. It was with submitting to someone else - doing it her way instead of mine. This is actually one of the invaluable lessons I mentioned a moment ago: learning to lay aside our pride and try something different. Thirdly, my struggle was with getting the right answers. When my list of facts didn't match (word for word) her list of facts, I felt the urge to scratch out my list, crumple up the paper and throw it out. You can't do that when the paper is a page in a book or when it's a computer screen. It's not nearly so cathartic to close or delete a file and too expensive to destroy a book or a computer in order to express frustration.
Years ago I learned a lesson about discipline that may apply. I jogged in a cemetery that is on the side of a hill. My family would part at the bottom of the hill and walk or jog the outside circle. As soon as I started jogging, my mind would begin sinning my jogging song:

Oh God, You are my God

And I will ever praise You

Oh God, You are my God

And I will ever praise You

I will seek You in the morning

I will learn to walk in Your ways

And step by step You'll lead me

And I will follow You all of my days.

Sometimes, by the time I began my second loop, and usually by the time I began my third loop, the song would end with a "I don' wanna do this." To get the real effect, add some whine to your voice, and 5 or 6 As and about 20 Ns to the word "wanna."

God said, "OK, you don't have to, but are you gonna?"

My answer was to set my jaw, silently say, "Yes" and start back up the hill, "Oh God, You are my God. . . and step by step. . . .and step by step. . . and step by step. . . Oh, I don' wanna...."

Perhaps the most amazing thing is that God didn't get tired either of the song or our often repeated addition to it. Sometimes I would sigh with resignation. Other times I would get the glint of battle in my eye. Now, whenever I hear myself think or say those words, I know the answer.

You're allowed to now want to follow the disciplines of life. You aren't alone. You don't have to do it. You may approach it with excitement, with resignation or with the glint of battle in your eye. God's question is, "Are you gonna?"