Since July I have been working to start a private counselling practice here in Vancouver. The first few weeks were very encouraging and incredibly productive. I was able to register a name and get business accounts and financial backing and set up a website and more with astounding ease. I even found an incredible office space that appeared to be perfect. With all things moving so quickly I was a bit stressed but so excited to start receiving clients mid August.

And then I hit the first bump in the road: The City of Vancouver Zoning Department.

Parenthetically, I want to preface, this is not a blog intended to deface the public servants of our wonderful city. I respect the authority God has placed over me, so should you.

One week before I was supposed to move into my office, I applied for my soon-to-be city approved business license. I bounced into the office full of hope and eagerness, turned over my paper work and watched as the woman looked up my new address. She looked at me in all my bubbly anticipation and said flatly, “You can’t start a business here.” My heart sank.

The zoning was denied, something about parking spaces, healthcare offices, non profits, industrialization, and seagulls (just kidding, but it seemed to include everything in the kitchen sink). In that moment I was confused, angry and flooded with worry. But no matter how confused and worried I felt, I felt a deeper conviction in my core—this was God saying “No”, not just the city.

However, I decided to ignore that heartfelt weighty thought. I am a bit willful and decided God was mistaken. I decided God did not see what I saw. I decided he was testing me to see if I would fight for this office space. I decided I would get my way, no matter what. I decided.

I decided …

I decided to listen to my own desires and self-interest and fear and worry and control.

So, for two weeks I battled. I imagined ways to get around the system, ways to lie, ways to avoid getting a business license. In my head I worried and plotted and planned. I had visions of telling off the zoning department or going rogue as a counsellor doing counselling anywhere I pleased. I kept myself up late at night. I called the city, other counsellors, the landlord, and tried to make it work (luckily without sacrificing my integrity entirely). Alastair even emailed our local MP (member of Parliament).

No matter how hard I tried the answer was still a resounding “No”.

When I prayed I knew in my heart God was saying “No”. I just did not want to believe it. Why would he say no to such a good thing? Why would he deny me this office on which I had my heart set? Why would he put me through all this stress and worry when he was the one who told me to start a practice in the first place? Why, why why couldn’t I just have my way?

To say I was confused and frustrated is an understatement. I felt like Jacob. I felt like I was wrestling with God himself. I was crying out “Bless me!” (but in a very specific office -shaped way) even if I did not deserve it. I wanted his blessing, his action, his provision, his peace. Then, I started to realize that I wanted these things more than I wanted that specific office space.

It was a realization that led to acceptance.

In certain counselling therapies there is an idea called “Radical Acceptance.” It is a skill, a way of looking at our lives and saying “It is what it is.” It always reminds me of the times in life when I have surrendered completely to God’s will and plan. It reminds me of his call to Israel and to the disciples, “Do not be afraid, I am with you, even in this.”

When we accept the situation around us it frees us from our obsessive thoughts and compulsive actions as we fight for our own way.

Acceptance did not fix the situation, but it allowed me to respond to the situation with more maturity, wisdom, and peace. It is living in the unknown, but trusting God is working somewhere, trusting he is there by my side, trusting he is watching over the situation at hand, trusting he has my best and his best on the way. It is surrendering my will in exchange for his. It is surrendering my control or manipulation. It is letting God’s “no” be a good thing and not the end of the world.

So I heard him say no, I cried, and I let it go. It was painful. It was scary. It was hard. But I was released from the need to fix it. I was free to be here and enjoy the summer and trust God would lead me as a Good Shepherd. It left me as the watchmen, waiting for the morning sun, not in despair, but in hope.

All this to say: When God tells you no, even to a good thing, I hope you can lean into him, accept it, and trust him.