Just an Ounce

Benjamin Franklin is credited with the maxim, “An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.” Wanting to follow this logic, yesterday I went to Walgreens and got a flu shot.

I grew up in a home where both parents believed a little illness gave the body a chance to exercise its disease-fighting mechanism, and conquering the flu was evidence all systems were working. We weren’t taken to a doctor unless we needed stitches or surgery, and if we had a fever, we weren’t encouraged to take aspirin. “A fever is just your body letting the sickness out,” Mom would say.

That philosophy is probably why I figured flu shots were only for those who loved medicine and doctors offices. I’d been sick so few times I couldn’t even remember having a cold. That is, until Christmas, 2010.

Our whole family was scheduled to come to Michigan from Florida, England, Hawaii, Iowa, and Chicago. Christmas of 2009 had been sad and somber, since we were still reeling over Nate’s death a few weeks earlier. When I look at the family photo taken a year later in 2010, I see a group that had survived the worst part of grieving. But I also see a whole bunch of people who had just finished enduring something else: two holiday weeks of shared diseases.

The Christmas season we’d hoped would be joyful included fevers, vomiting, diarrhea, headaches, and lots of crankiness. Not one of us had escaped. And several days after that picture, as I stood on the front porch waving off the last of them, I made a decision to join the ranks of flu shot consumers.

An ounce of prevention is always better than mopping up afterwards, but of course this principle doesn’t just apply to diseases. If we fudge on our income taxes, for example, the end result is a fine many times greater than the original tax bill. If we tell one lie, we might have to tell 15 more to support that first one. On paper we know these things. Applying them is something else.

And what about spiritual ounces of prevention? How do we prevent ourselves from, for instance, falling into temptation? An ounce of that kind of prevention might mean finding an accountability partner. It might mean making sure the things that tempt us have been cleaned out of our homes. Maybe it’s appropriate Scriptures written on cards, or a list of 3 practical steps to take during times of weakness.

Hebrews 11 tells us that many of the Old Testament saints “were made strong out of weakness.” (v. 34) And how did that happen? God strengthened their faith, one preventative ounce at a time. He’s the same God today, offering the same ounces to any of us who are willing to work at preventing sin.

I guess compared to that, getting a flu shot is a piece of Christmas cake. Ben Franklin, my sore shoulder thanks you.

“Watch and pray so that you will not fall into temptation. The spirit is willing, but the flesh is weak.” (Matthew 26:41)

Reach for it!

When our Nelson was a toddler, he loved to climb. Finding contentment with toys and books at his own eye level was never good enough, and his goal was always to move higher. During his climbing phase I struggled to keep track of him while managing newborn Lars and would often round a corner to find him in high places: on the kitchen counter, atop his dresser, on the highest stair outside the railing.

For Nelson, everything he wanted most was out of reach. More accurately, whatever was out of reach was what he wanted most.

I remember watching his face turn upward, eyes scanning a high shelf or cabinet, and saying to him, “Nelson, there’s nothing up there for you. Why don’t we find your colored blocks?” (Or bouncy-ball. Or fire truck.) But nothing he could see fascinated him like the things he couldn’t.

Many of us who are non-toddlers are exactly that way. Just knowing something is out of reach can be reason enough to go after it. But isn’t perseverance and resolve frequently promoted in the Bible as good things?

Not always. It depends on the object of our pursuit, and God gives us a list. He tells us to go after godliness, kindness, peace, love, faith, single-mindedness, gentleness, righteousness… and to go after him.

Reaching for things not on this list might end the way most of Nelson’s climb-and-find projects did: a crash, a mess, and a reprimand. He usually ended up buried, bumped, or bleeding, and most often was disappointed when what he “just had to have” turned out to be a whopping disappointment.

Oftentimes God puts things out of our reach on purpose and for good reasons. He might be trying to save us from harm. Maybe it’s simply a not-yet thing being withheld to develop our patience. He might be holding something high so he can give us something else that’s even better than what we’re currently reaching for.

None of us likes to be told “stop” or “no.” Nelson certainly didn’t. If I aborted one of his climbing pursuits, he’d react by kicking his feet and howling with objections. Though adults aren’t as outwardly demonstrative, we usually do the same thing in our hearts.

God encourages us to reach for the things on his list, and once we commit to pursuing what he wants us to pursue, he gives his blessing for us to climb as high as we want to get it. And because we’re going after the things he’s endorsed, we can be sure that in the end there will be no crashes, messes, or reprimands.

“Pursue righteousness, godliness, faith, love, steadfastness, gentleness. Fight the good fight of the faith.” (1 Timothy 6:11-12)

Word Expert

There are two kinds of people in the world: those who love numbers and those who love words. Since I’m one of the latter, writing has always been pure pleasure. And for several years, Microsoft Word has been a practical teacher with its spell check and grammar helps, correcting some of my sloppy habits. For example, when to use “it’s” or “its”.

After being “disciplined” by multi-colored underlinings again and again, an incorrect habit is eventually corrected. The same goes for a slew of formerly misspelled words. The other day Microsoft taught me that “sovereignty” actually has the word “reign” in it, a meaningful discovery. I used to spell it, “soverignty” which detracted from the gist of it, so I was thankful for the correction.

Tonight’s blog post is my 1000th on this web site, and after all that writing (and correcting), I’ve fully accepted that I hadn’t been the wordsmith I thought I was back on blog #1 and am thankful for my cyber-tutor. All I had to do was keep writing, and Microsoft gradually coached me into doing it better.

Scripture is Word of a different sort. No Silicon Valley techies were needed to write it, but its function is similar to Microsoft’s: to correct our mistakes. God’s Word does other things, too, but if we want to know how to do things right, that’s where we can find out.

Some people say, “I never read the Bible, because it’s too big a book. I wouldn’t know where to start.” Others say, “It’s too complicated and confusing, virtually impossible to understand.” But just like getting acquainted with Microsoft Word, making an effort, even a bumbling one, will lead to familiarity.

When I first began using Microsoft’s tutoring tools, I engaged in mental sparring with the little red, green, and blue error markings. “Really?” I’d say to the screen. “What’s the problem?”

But of course the problem was always me, and as I clicked on the lines, I learned what needed correcting. To repeatedly use something leads to an understanding of it. The same is true of the Bible. As we use it, we get it. And before long, we stop arguing with God that his corrections aren’t needed and become grateful for them.

By the way, I have a friend named Debbe who never needed Microsoft Word to teach her about words but excelled at spelling and grammar on her own. So when I was told of her expertise, I asked if she would bird-dog my posts, watching for errors that might slip through Microsoft’s prompts. And recently when she let me know that “pouring over papers” should have been “poring over papers,” I was genuinely grateful for the correction.

“All Scripture is inspired by God and is useful to teach us what is true and to make us realize what is wrong in our lives. It corrects us when we are wrong and teaches us to do what is right.” (2 Timothy 3:16)