“In the same way, those of you who do not give up everything you have cannot be my disciples.”

 

— Luke 14:33

 

There are some things you probably don’t say when you’re trying to build a crowd.

“Hey, everybody! Before we get started, let me tell you exactly how difficult this is going to be.”

That’s not exactly how you fill the seats.

But that’s Jesus.

Luke 14 says a large crowd was following Him, and instead of getting excited about the numbers, Jesus turns around and starts talking about the cost of following Him. He talks about putting Him first, carrying your cross, and counting the cost before building something you may not be able to finish.

In other words, Jesus wasn’t looking for people who wanted to admire Him from a comfortable distance. He wanted people who were actually willing to follow Him.

And there’s a question in that passage that I don’t think we can dodge: Am I really following God, or do I mostly want God to follow me?

Because those two things can look surprisingly similar from the outside.

We Don’t Mind God’s Direction—As Long As It Matches Ours

Jesus tells the story of a man who wants to build a tower. Before he starts, he sits down and figures out whether he has enough resources to finish it. He doesn’t just grab a hammer and start swinging because he’s excited about having a tower.

That’s actually pretty good advice.

I’ve never met anybody who started a construction project thinking, “I have no idea what this is going to cost, but I’m sure it’ll work itself out.”

Well… I have met people like that. Usually they’re standing in the middle of a half-finished home explaining why the original budget was “just a starting point.”

Jesus is telling us to count the cost.

Following God isn’t always convenient. It can cost us comfort. It can cost us money. It can cost us opportunities. It can cost us pride. Sometimes it can even cost us the approval of people we really wanted to impress.

I’ve had to learn that preparation and fear are not the same thing.

When I started Eclipse DOT, I spent more than two years preparing for the transition. I wanted to be ready. I wanted to understand what I was getting into. I wanted to make sure the business could work and my family would be taken care of.

That was good preparation.

But if I’m honest, some of it was fear.

I wasn’t just afraid of failing. I was afraid of people seeing me fail.

There’s a difference.

Wisdom says, “Prepare before you jump.”

Fear says, “Don’t jump until you’ve eliminated every possible way this could go wrong.”

Good luck with that.

You can spend your entire life waiting for a guarantee God never promised to give you.

And we do this in all kinds of ways. We say we’re waiting for the right time. We’re waiting for more clarity. We’re waiting until the finances are better. We’re waiting until the situation makes more sense.

Sometimes we genuinely need to wait.

But sometimes “I’m waiting on God” is just a more spiritual way of saying, “I’m scared to move.”

That’s something worth praying about.

Because faith doesn’t mean throwing wisdom out the window. Jesus literally tells us to count the cost. But counting the cost is different from letting fear make the decision.

And if I’m being honest, fear isn’t always the thing I fear most.

Sometimes it’s what other people will think.

What will my friends think? What will my family think? What will my employees think? What will people say?

And somehow we’re capable of worrying about the opinion of a guy we haven’t spoken to since 2009.

He doesn’t even know what we’re doing.

But somehow he’s still sitting in the boardroom in our head.

At some point, we’ve got to decide whether we’re going to live according to everybody else’s expectations or actually follow where God leads.

Maybe God Wasn’t Meant to Be Your Emergency Contact

Here’s where the passage gets even more uncomfortable.

Imagine we’re friends, but I’m terrible at being your friend.

I never call you. I never check on you. I don’t ask how you’re doing. I don’t make time for you. When everything is going well, you don’t hear from me at all.

Then my truck breaks down.

“Brother! What’s going on? Man, it’s been forever! Listen, I hate to ask you this…”

You help me.

I disappear.

Six months later, I’ve got another problem.

“Brother! I was literally just thinking about you!”

At some point, you’d figure me out.

You wouldn’t think, “What a loyal friend.”

You’d think, “This guy doesn’t want a relationship with me. He just wants something from me.”

And that makes me uncomfortable because sometimes I have to ask whether I treat God the same way.

When life is good, am I still talking to Him?

When the business is doing well, am I still asking for His direction?

When the family is healthy, am I still grateful?

When my plans are working, am I still listening?

Or does my prayer life suddenly become extremely consistent when something goes wrong?

When the money gets tight, we pray.

When the diagnosis is frightening, we pray.

When the business is struggling, we pray.

When the relationship falls apart, we pray.

And there’s nothing wrong with any of that. God wants us to come to Him when we’re hurting.

But what about when we’re not hurting?

That’s the part that reveals the relationship.

God isn’t supposed to be our spiritual roadside assistance plan.

He’s not the spare tire we keep in the trunk and forget exists until something goes flat.

And He’s definitely not a vending machine where we put in a prayer and then get angry because our blessing is taking longer than expected.

I’ve done something else that’s just as backwards.

I’ve made the decision first and then asked God to bless it.

“God, here’s what I’m doing. I already told everybody. The money’s already committed. The contract’s already signed. So if You could just make this work, that would be fantastic.”

That’s not really asking God to lead.

That’s asking Him to approve the paperwork.

Maybe the better prayer comes before the decision.

“God, what do You want me to do?”

That’s a much more dangerous prayer.

Because if I genuinely ask that question, I have to be willing to do something I may not want to do.

And that’s the part of following God we don’t always like.

We want guidance.

We just prefer guidance that agrees with us.

We want God to open doors.

Preferably the doors we’ve already picked.

We want Him to direct our steps.

As long as He’s going in the direction we’re already walking.

But that’s not following.

That’s asking God to become our GPS while refusing to turn when He says, “Recalculating.”

Following Jesus Means He Gets to Lead

This is where Jesus’ words in Luke 14 really land.

He wasn’t asking the crowd to become admirers.

He was asking them to become followers.

And followers don’t get to pick the destination every time.

That’s why God First. Life Next. has to be more than a phrase we like. If God is first, He gets a voice before the decision, not just after we’ve made it.

He gets a voice in how we run our businesses. How we handle money. How we treat people. How we respond when we’re angry. How we handle success. How we respond when someone disappoints us. How we behave when nobody is watching.

And sometimes following Him is going to cost something.

There will be times when doing the right thing costs money.

There will be times when integrity costs an opportunity.

There will be times when forgiveness feels unfair.

There will be times when people don’t understand why you made the decision you made.

There will be times when following God makes you look foolish to somebody who doesn’t understand what you’re doing.

That’s part of counting the cost.

But here’s something else I’ve learned: not following God costs something too.

Fear costs something.

Compromise costs something.

Living for approval costs something.

Putting money ahead of integrity costs something.

Always choosing comfort over obedience costs something.

We just don’t always get the invoice immediately.

That’s why I keep coming back to the question Jesus puts in front of us.

Not, “Is God part of my life?”

Of course He is.

The better question is, “Who’s actually leading my life?”

Because I can have God in my life without putting God first.

I can go to church, read my Bible, pray, talk about faith, and still make every major decision based on what I want.

I can ask God to bless my plans without ever asking whether they’re His plans.

And I think that’s the challenge of Luke 14.

Jesus isn’t interested in being another item on our already crowded list.

He’s asking us to follow Him.

That means sometimes He leads and I don’t understand.

Sometimes He says wait when I want to move.

Sometimes He says move when I want to wait.

Sometimes He asks me to let go of something I really wanted.

And sometimes He asks me to trust Him when I would much rather have a five-year plan, a backup plan, and a spreadsheet proving everything is going to be fine.

That’s where faith gets real.

So here’s the question I’m taking with me today:

Am I following God, or am I just using God?

Do I seek Him when I don’t need anything?

Do I ask before I decide?

Am I willing to obey when the answer isn’t what I wanted?

And if following Him costs me something, am I still willing to follow?

Because Jesus didn’t promise the crowd that following Him would be easy.

He told them to count the cost.

Then follow.

Maybe that’s what God First really means.

Not that God gets a little corner of our lives.

Not that we call Him when everything falls apart.

Not that we ask Him to bless whatever we’ve already decided.

It means we trust Him enough to let Him lead.

Even when the road isn’t the one we would’ve chosen.

Even when other people don’t understand.

Even when it costs us something.

Because Jesus isn’t looking for fans.

He’s looking for followers.

And followers don’t just ask, “What can You do for me?”

They ask, “Where are You going?”

Then they go.

God First. Life Next.

Something to Chew On

Think about the biggest decision in front of you right now. Have you actually asked God what He wants—or have you already made the decision and you’re just hoping He signs off on it?