They taught us in school that blind obedience was bad.
 
 And that made sense. I’m a Thoreau kind of guy, a go-my-own-way sort, and the notion of doing what someone else said, of following someone else’s lead, just seemed alien.
 
 It made no sense to me whatsoever.
 
 I learned how to do it, I had to, life requires it, but I never meant it. It was a fake. Oh, sometimes I was agreeable, my judgement was the same as the direction I had received, but it was not true obedience. I was still doing my own will.
 
 I did it if it made sense to me, and if it didn’t, I didn’t.
 
 Which for a long time seemed like a good way to go. And in some areas of life, it still may be.
 
 When I’m told to do something, my nature is to respond not “Yes” or “No,” but “Why?” And then there will be a little debate, inside my mind or out, and the merits of the matter will be torn apart and contrasted. And my conduct will be determined by the outcome of the debate, by which side wins.
 
 And, again, often I will agree with the wisdom of the order I’ve been given, and do it.
 
 But sometimes I don’t. And the issue is never obedience, it is always “what makes sense.”
 
 And I can see now that that is a dangerous practice, in part because it is dependent on my ability to make sense of things. An ability which, while it might be good, is not infallible. And relying upon it, with its inherent weaknesses and ignorances, will lead inevitably to failure and regret.
 
 The other danger of my nature is that it denies me the benefits of obedience. It denies me the growth and strength which come from trusting something outside myself.
 
 It prevents me from daring to be obedient, just for the sake of being obedient. Of doing what I’m told simply because I’m told.
 
 We used to call that blind obedience.
 
 I prefer to think of it as faithful obedience.
 
 And I am learning to see it not as a weakness, but as a strength. That those who engage in it are not sheep, but disciples.
 
 And that obedience is not a series of decisions, it is merely one decision followed through. Not, “Will I do this, this and this?” But rather, “Will I obey?”
 
 And once that question is answered “Yes,” the other questions are already taken care of.
 
 That is what I am learning, and I hope it is what I am doing.
 
 Not on the job, not in society, not with family and friends.
 
 But in matters of faith and religion. In matters of God and commandments. I am learning to follow merely because I am led.
 
 Not that reason and common sense don’t bear out the direction one is given. They typically do. And that is nice. It is encouraging.
 
But it is not critical.
 
 It is not necessary that what God says make sense, it only matters that God says it. Obedience teaches that, and keeps us in safe places.
 
Requiring every direction we receive to pass the test of our understanding limits God to the realm of our understanding. In reality, he operates under no such limits. On the contrary, he typically operates far beyond our mortal ability to comprehend.
 
 Which is where faith comes in. We have to believe, as a matter of faith, in his wisdom and love, and in the goodness of what he does and what happens in our lives.
 
 The same principle applies to doing what he says.
 
 We must have faith in him and in his word, and if we have chosen to accept him and his direction, then we must be obedient. Period. Not 80 percent obedient, or obedient in areas that make sense to us, or which are convenient to us, but completely obedient.
 
 And that is faithful obedience.
 
 And that is against my nature. It is alien to me. Or at least it has been. But sometimes in matters like this, the point is the bridling of who we are and the promise of who we can become.
 
 At least that’s how I see it.
 
 So I choose to listen and obey. To learn God’s will, as I understand and believe it, and to make following that will my priority.
 
 To serve him and not myself. To rely on his judgement, not my own.
 Not because I’m holier-than-thou, but because I’m not. Because my way hasn’t worked, and I hope not to be so stubborn that I can’t recognize that.
 
 Blind obedience is a sign of weakness. Faithful obedience is a sign of strength. I hope I am strong enough to turn away from my blind obedience to my own judgement, and take up instead a faithful obedience to God’s.
 
 And in our own ways, I hope we all are.