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Pressing Past Passable



https://open.spotify.com/episode/3zmaPJ52l844ZzbNsHW2uP?si=HJgIOxloQEWiKGhQVZAzZg&context=spotify%3Ashow%3A00aDj3KbY5k63c31qBSpGj

https://podcasts.apple.com/nz/podcast/good-is-the-enemy-of-great-stop-settling-for-a/id1506692775?i=1000736035842

The Divine Discontent: Why Your Restless Soul is a Holy Alarm

My braai grid was hot, the boerewass sizzling, and the sky over Akasia was painted in shades of orange and purple. It was a perfect, good Friday evening. My friends were over, the laughter was easy, and for all intents and purposes, life was… acceptable. Yet, right there, amidst the aroma of grilling meat and the familiar chorus of crickets, a profound restlessness stirred in my spirit. It was a whisper, not of dissatisfaction with what I had, but of a deep, haunting conviction that I was made for more than this comfortable, good life.

This, my friends, is what I’ve come to call the Divine Discontent. It is the holy ache, the sacred frustration that gnaws at you when you’ve settled for the shoreline while a vast, uncharted ocean beckons. And in a South Africa where we are daily wrestling with the relentless load-shedding of our national hopes, the potholes of corruption that jar our progress, and the simple, exhausting pursuit of a “good” life amidst the chaos, this whisper is often silenced by the sheer volume of survival.

But I am here to sound the alarm: The enemy of "great" is not "bad"—it's "good." You've settled for a good job, a good relationship, a good life, when you were called to a great destiny. Good enough is the enemy of God's best. Don't let the acceptable rob you of the exceptional.

Picture, if you will, two farms. One is a small, tidy plot, neatly fenced, with a few healthy cows. It’s manageable, predictable, good. The other is a vast, sprawling estate, with untamed valleys and mountains full of untapped mineral wealth. It is risky, demanding, and great. Many of us are living as tenants on the tidy plot, all the while holding the title deed to the boundless estate in our back pocket, forgotten. We have exchanged our divine inheritance for a bowl of comfortable stew, much like Esau, who traded his birthright for a momentary satisfaction (Genesis 25:29-34).

This is not just a feeling; it is a theological truth. Let us define our terms clearly. This “good” is the spirit of complacency, the lukewarmness that Christ himself spews out of His mouth (Revelation 3:16). It is the belief that as long as we are not “bad”—as long as we go to church, avoid the big sins, and are generally nice people—we have fulfilled our spiritual contract. It is a devastating deception.

I see it in our South African context. We see the headlines: another government tender scandal, another promise broken. We shake our heads and say, “Ag, shame, that’s just how it is.” We settle for a good enough cynicism, rather than pursuing the great virtue of righteous indignation and transformative action. We build high walls around our homes for a good sense of security, while abandoning the great call to be peacemakers in our communities.

A common objection I hear is this: “But Harold, isn’t it prideful to want greatness? Shouldn’t we be humble and content?” This is a clever twisting of scripture. The argument can be formulated thus:

· Premise 1: God calls us to humility and contentment.

· Premise 2: Pursuing greatness seems opposed to humility.

· Conclusion: Therefore, pursuing greatness is unbiblical.

However, this fails because it confuses worldly greatness with divine greatness. Worldly greatness is about self-exaltation. Divine greatness, the kind Jesus exemplified, is about radical obedience and servanthood. Jesus, the King of Kings, washed feet. His greatness was found in His ultimate service. God does not call us to be nobodies; He calls us to be servants of all (Mark 9:35). There is a vast difference. One is a life of hidden insignificance; the other is a life of purposeful, world-altering humility. To refuse the destiny God has for you because of a false sense of humility is not piety; it is disobedience.

The evidence for this pursuit is etched across the Scripture. Look at Abraham, called from his good life in Ur to a great nation he could not yet see. Look at Moses, pulled from the good obscurity of the desert to the great task of confronting Pharaoh. They heeded the Divine Discontent.

And this is where we find our Lord Jesus Christ. He is the ultimate picture of this principle. He left the ultimate good—the glory of Heaven—to achieve the great—our salvation on the cross. He refused to settle for the acceptable. He pursued the exceptional, and in doing so, tore the veil from top to bottom.

So, what does this mean for you, today, in Pretoria, in Johannesburg, in Cape Town? That restless feeling you have about your career? That holy frustration with the status quo in your family or community? That dream that won't let you go? Do not silence it. It is the whisper of a greater calling.

It is time to trade the flickering candle of a “good” life for the brilliant, unyielding light of God’s great purpose for you. It is time to move from the comfortable stands into the spiritual battle for the soul of our nation. The fight requires not just passion, but precision; not just feeling, but faith forged in the fires of reason and revelation.

Stop praying only for a good day, and start praying for a great impact. Stop asking God merely to bless your plans, and start asking Him to reveal His. Your Divine Discontent is not a curse to be managed, but a compass to be followed. It is the summons to a life where your deepest joys and God’s greatest glory collide.

Do not let the acceptable rob you of the exceptional. He who called you is faithful. He will do it. Now, rise up, and Pursue Great.

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