Spiders on the Web

Every generation considers itself sharper than the one before. Since I see 3 generations coming behind me, I assume I’m “getting it” less and less. There’s one area where that’s indisputably true: the World Wide Web.

Recently three of my boys tried to explain to Mary and me what happens when someone researches a topic through Google. The two of us had initiated the discussion with questions about how the impossible occurs each time we Google anything. Literally millions of sites jump to the screen in seconds, and we wanted to know how.

The boys began describing the technical reasons behind this phenomenon, explaining why it wasn’t “the impossible” but was quite understandable. We asked question after question, but their answers were beyond our grasp. No matter how they tried to simplify it, we still couldn’t get it.

Mary said, “But who typed in all that information? Somewhere, at some time, someone had to put all those facts on the web.” The boys threw back their heads and laughed with gusto while Mary and I looked at each other’s blank faces and thought, “What’s funny about that?”

It was as if our two groups were talking different topics. Maybe we were. Adam patiently described the spiders that crawl around the web collecting data in a category requested through Google, completing their task in milliseconds, another nonsensical concept.

“Spiders?” we said. Mary and I are fully acquainted with real spiders in the real world, but these imaginary ones didn’t compute. But then, because the information they collect is real, they must somehow be real, too. It was mindboggling, and I’m fairly sure smoke began seeping from our ears at that point.

The root problem is that Mary and I think differently than the generation beneath us. It’s like pointing to a tree and asking what kind it is. One group might say, “A tree with red leaves,” the other, “Deciduous.”

I thought of the parallel between generational confusion and the confusion we sometimes feel in trying to understand God. In our bewilderment we ask him questions and he uses his Word to answer, but more often than not, we still don’t get it.

Sometimes we’re incapable of figuring it out, sometimes just off topic. We might be asking, “Lord, which retirement center should I choose?” while he’s answering, “My grace is sufficient for you.”

Much like Mary and me peppering the boys with sidebar questions, all of us are guilty of asking God the wrong questions, too, focusing on our expected answers rather than trying to understand his new ones. When God says something that seems off topic to us, we just repeat our question.

God does offer one answer, though, that answers every question, in every situation, both those we understand and those that confuse us:

“Just trust me.”

And because he’s God, we get that, no matter what generation we’re from.

“What they trust in is fragile; what they rely on is a spider’s web.” (Job 8:14)

Dream a Little Dream

I’ve always loved listening to the convoluted accounts of people’s dreams. Most don’t make any sense, a sound-asleep brain making mishmash of daytime details, but it’s fun to pluck out bits of authenticity.

A crystal clear dream I had last night has dominated my thoughts all day. I was crossing the Atlantic on a big jet headed for Chicago. Midway across (i.e. 2000 miles from land) the plane poofed into oblivion. There was no violent explosion, just a disappearance.

Other passengers vanished, too, and I was left flying along in a summer sundress, high in the sky. Looking down at the ocean, I knew I was going to end up there eventually and wondered if the water was cold. But flying was glorious, generating a thrill similar to parachuting for the first time. I spread-eagled my arms, closed my eyes and hoped to stay airborne for many miles.

Every so often I looked down, but the water was still far away, and I told myself, “This experience is the highlight of my life!”

Gradually the ocean loomed larger, but I had no fear. Waves were small, almost non-existent, reminding me of the Titanic movie and a quote from the crow’s nest that night: “It’s a veritable pond!”

Finally I landed in the water, which was bright blue and delightfully warm. It felt good, and after surfacing, I rolled on my back in a floating position. Looking at the high clouds, I wondered which way to Chicago. Without the sun it was hard to tell. But I’ve always loved to swim and turned over to begin a gentle crawl stroke. It occurred to me 2000 miles was farther than I’d swum before, actually farther than anyone had. So I went back to floating.

A plane flew overhead, miles above, but I knew I was just a speck from that height and didn’t even wave. I began wondering what would happen to me. I knew sharks loved warm water and thought I might be gobbled up, but that didn’t seem worrisome.

Looking at the sky, I was thankful for the clouds, a protection from sunburn. But one concern, though not a big one, was my lack of drinking water. Could I make it to the US without getting thirsty? Deciding to hurry, I resumed my crawl stroke in earnest, but this time my head seemed too heavy to lift out of the water. I abruptly woke up, my head in the air.

Bothered by the dream all day, I asked God what, if anything, he wanted me to learn. To be cautious about risk-taking? To plan ahead better? To pay attention to danger signals? To seek his help before trying to go it alone?

In the end I decided his only message was, “Don’t eat a big dinner after midnight.”

“The fruit of the Spirit is… self-control. Since we live by the Spirit, let us keep in step with the Spirit.” (Galatians 5:22-25)

Special Delivery

During the 6 weeks when Nate had cancer, we made almost daily visits to one pharmacy or another in an effort to secure the many drugs prescribed for him.

As the days passed, we sat in pharmacy drive-through windows longer and longer, arguing with insurance companies through pharmacy employees. “They said no more of these pills and only half of those.” As part of the larger health war we were fighting, these smaller skirmishes were necessary but draining, especially for Nate, who was often in the car feeling bad about  it all.

After Hospice entered the picture, they took our place on the front lines of all pharmaceutical battles, allowing us to step away, a tremendous gift. The drugs they prescribed came directly to our front door via FedEx’s daily visit. All the way to Nate’s last peaceful breath, the deliveries were always one step ahead of his need.

Jack, our usually-silent dog, always announced FedEx’s arrival with rude barking, so others in the family routinely beat me to the door to receive Nate’s prescriptions. But one day I made an effort to get there fist, wanting to apologize to the woman driver for Jack’s bad-mannered greeting.

“I’m sorry,” I told the tall, blond driver. “We’ve got a difficult situation inside, and the dog’s just nervous about everything.”

“Oh, that’s no problem,” she said. “I love dogs. And really, he’s right. I’m not supposed to be in front of your house or even on your street.”

“What do you mean?”

“My instructions are to leave all FedEx deliveries at the mail house by the entrance to your subdivision where they sign for them, and that’s what I’ve always done for other people. But you really need what I’m delivering, and you’ve got better things to do than run up to the mail house. So here I am.”

I was astounded this young woman would take such a risk for us, maybe even jeopardizing her job. Her thoughtfulness impacted me deeply.

This morning as I sat in a prayer group of 4 ladies, I looked at the empty chair in our circle trying to picture the Lord in it, because of course he was. Much like the FedEx driver, he comes all the way to us, knowing we are in need of what he’s equipped to deliver. He goes the extra mile for us, aware that we’re often too depleted to even meet him half way.

Better than that, though, he can deliver a custom-made remedy for everything that ails us, from disease to debts, infections to infractions, sickness to sins. The FedEx lady could deliver only what she had in her truck; God can deliver the gamut, because he owns the whole warehouse.

And boy, can he can deliver!

“He will deliver the needy who cry out, the afflicted who have no one to help.” (Psalm 72:12)