Category Archives: Submitting to God

Handmade is better.

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It took many years for me to realize one of my ears was lower than the other. But when every pair of glasses I ever bought tipped the same direction, I finally gave up criticizing the glasses and figured it was me.

In another dimension dilemma, one leg is longer than the other. If new slacks need shortening, one side always needs a tad more than the other. Eventually I was forced to acknowledge I was just plain crooked.

But that isn’t all bad. Instead it’s an indication I was handmade, just like pottery created on a wheel, a quilt made on a stretcher or a drinking glass blown by mouth. And that’s the definition of unique: no two alike.

Although we all love handmade when it comes to home decor and baked goods, faces are another matter. In that category we strive for parallel perfection, one side mirroring the other. Years ago I had a conversation with a plastic surgeon and asked about facial symmetry. “It doesn’t exist,” he said. I suspected as much.

People, especially women, kept him in business by paying him to rearrange their asymmetrical faces, altering one side or the other to make them match. Surgical changes are tricky, though, and despite precise scalpel work, perfection remains elusive.

God creates each of us unlike anybody else. He gave us unique fingerprints, already visible on the hands of an unborn baby at 14 weeks in utero. He also designs unique irises for each of us, and even our tongue prints are one-of-a-kind.

Individuality is important to God. He could simply “poof” us into existence but instead chooses to design us. According to Scripture, he personally makes “all the delicate parts” of our bodies (Psalm 139) with thought and supernatural effort, including our symmetry or asymmetry. Surely he could put together a bodily perfect human being, and yet he doesn’t. Might it have something to do with handing us opportunities to accept his will over our own? Or possibly offering us a chance to become content with less than perfection?

I’ve been remiss over the years, whining about my physical flaws to my kids. The result of that false pride was their inaccurate opinion that I was judging them the same way, which I wasn’t. But that was the prideful part, focusing on myself. With their patient corrections, I’ve stopped self-criticizing… at least audibly.

It occurred to me my dissatisfaction with the ways God has made me unique is probably disrespectful to him, maybe even disloyal, which makes me feel awful. I hope I can eventually get it through my crooked head that being handmade by God is an incredible gift, bi-level ears and all.

“My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place.” (Psalm 139:15)

Figure it out.

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Nelson was about to arrive home after 8 months away, so I was outside Windex-ing the windows on The Bean in preparation for his reunion with this small, well-traveled vehicle. Window glass is the only Bean feature that could ever sparkle.

In the process, a tiny but sharp piece of acorn got wedged between the ball of my foot and my flip-flop. Every time I stepped, it was, “Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.”

Finally I took off the sandal, shook it, rubbed the bottom of my foot, and put it back on. But the ouch was still there. I repeated it twice more, never taking time to study the problem, but the sharp something was always there. Finally I put down the Windex and looked. The flip-flop was clean and smooth. Same for my foot. So I put it back on.

But still!

And there was nothing there. Slowly I rocked forward onto the ball of my foot, mimicking a step, and it poked again, but there was nothing to see. So I pulled it off and pressed my finger on the smooth place that mysteriously got sharp, bending the sandal like it was walking.

Ouch again!

Finally I turned it over. And there was the problem: a stubby sharp screw embedded in the sole, pointing straight up,  just deep enough to jab me when my weight pressed on it. I unscrewed it and had a good chuckle.

While finishing my window washing, I thought about God’s faithful efforts to prod me into following his instructions. His jab might be a sentence in a devotional book: poke.

If I put that out of my mind, he might poke again, maybe a radio program or a friend’s comment on that same subject: jab.

On and on his little ouchies go until I stop what I’m doing and turn my attention to the subject at hand, much like I took off the flip-flop and shook it out, rubbing my foot. But noticing something still isn’t owning it: poke.

Hopefully I’ll be troubled enough by God’s prodding to eventually investigate, looking beneath the jab in an effort to find the source of irritation.

Sadly, our obedience sometimes starts with irritation. We’re frustrated with a new path to walk, a new skill to hone, a new person to meet, a new risk to take. If we’re happy with the status quo, all this newness can be distressing.

But God’s love for us is strong: poke. And he hopes eventually the annoyance of his jabbing will outweigh our reluctance to turn our attention toward him.

I want to develop a quick, inquisitive response to his prodding. In the mean time, I’m thankful the pushy little screw ended up in my flip-flop rather than in The Bean’s brand new tires!

“I am the Lord your God, who teaches you what is best for you, who directs you in the way you should go.”  (Isaiah 48:17b)

Elusive Sleep

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I was 50 years old before I knew about sleep machines. Manufacturers hope these little producers of white noise will enhance sleep for those who struggle to get there. The good ones offer to transform a stress-filled bedroom into the serene environment of an ocean shore, a running stream, a tropical forest or a summer night with crickets chirping.

I first learned the benefits of white noise as a young mother. My babies were never solid sleepers, unless they had nasal congestion. That’s because when we set a vaporizer in the nursery with its gentle whirring, they slept soundly… even when sick. We were onto something and vaporized year-round for a while, until the wallpaper began falling off.

When we learned there was a name for this noise and a machine to accomplish it (without dripping water), we realized other households were having sleep issues, too.

Most sleep machines make radical claims for the sleep-deprived. They promise rich, natural, drug-free rest that can boost energy and improve overall health.

But why is the world so sleep deprived in the first place? Since all of us have tossed and turned through long nights, we can list plenty of reasons:

  • Worrying too much
  • Struggling with pain
  • Thinking too hard
  • Fearing the future
  • Regretting the past
  • And a big ETC.

We crawl under the covers at night, relieved to finally be ending a stressful day, when suddenly the woes of the world seem propped next to the pillow, poking us relentlessly in an effort keep us awake.

Drug stores have racks of sleep aids, and pharmacies carry many more. Hospitals have sleep clinics in which they watch patients in dreamland, trying to figure out what puts them down and what pulls them up. The sleep industry is big business.

The biblical David was an emotional guy, describing in the Psalms his endless ups and downs (including the evasiveness of sleep). But in Psalm 4, after many sleepless nights, he figures out what  to do when sleep won’t come and lets us in on the secret: “When you are on your beds, search your hearts and be silent… Trust in the Lord.” (4,5)

When we’re churning at night, for whatever reason, David suggests we say, “Lord, are you preventing sleep because you want to tell me something? If so, I’m listening.” And like David, we can silently wait for God’s response, paying careful attention to our next thoughts. We might even be thankful we’re awake to hear what he has to say.

During noisy days, it’s difficult to hear him. In a dark bedroom, even with a sleep machine running, we tend to hear much better. By morning, we may have accomplished something far more important than any over-full day can achieve.

Maybe if we listen carefully, we’ll hear him say, “Turn off the white noise now. No more hard-to-sleep, just sleeping-hard instead.”

“I lie down and sleep; I wake again, because the Lord sustains me.” (Psalm 3:5)