Monthly Archives: March 2012

Rough Patches

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All of us have been driving when suddenly a torn patch of road shakes the car and has us swerving to avoid potholes. The road of life can be like that, too, presenting us with sudden rough patches in finances, marriages, friendships, or our spiritual lives. But if we take our time, if we slow down enough to carefully navigate around the cracks and dips, we can avoid potholes-worth of problems.

God is linked into this idea, too, knowing that when we calm our pace, we’ll hear him better. And when we hear him better, we’ll learn how to avoid trouble.

All of us remember Mr. Rogers of public television fame. He was popular with children because he moved at a slow speed, waiting for them to catch up if necessary. Although adults sometimes made fun of his unhurried pace, truth be told they appreciated him for it, too.

I recall one evening on Johnny Carson’s Tonight Show when Fred Rogers was a guest. At the beginning of the interview, Johnny asked questions tongue-in-cheek, winking at the audience. When he asked Mr. Rogers to sing one of his original songs, Fred looked Johnny straight in the eye and without a trace of hurry sang:

“It’s you I like–
Every part of you,
Your skin, your eyes, your feelings
Whether old or new.
I hope that you’ll remember
Even when you’re feeling blue
That it’s you I like…”

By the end, Johnny was wiping away a tear of emotion after having genuinely absorbed the sincere message of the song. Mr. Rogers’ calculated singing had slowed Johnny down long enough to hear the meaningful message.

What an effective illustration of our communication with God. So often we come into his presence flustered and rushed, hoping to have a quick, economical session with him. I’ve even initiated prayer times by asking God to make our few moments “efficient.” But hurried communication with the Almighty isn’t good communication, and unless we approach God like Mr. Rogers approached Johnny Carson, slowly and deliberately, we can’t expect much in return.

When we slow down enough to appreciate and adore him, good things will happen. If our minds are already on the next event, not much of significance will occur. So how do we bring ourselves to a screeching halt in a high-speed world? Even if we do it bodily, how can we keep our brains from buzzing?

We do it the same way we avoid highway potholes: by focusing on the damage we’ll cause if we blast into them, which then motivates us to slow down enough to see and avoid them. Likewise, if we ponder the damage to our spiritual lives as we race in and out of God’s presence, we’ll slow ourselves down enough to hear him.

And it’ll be then that he’ll let us know how to avoid all the rough patches life’s road has to offer.
“Do not be in a hurry to leave the king’s presence.” (Ecclesiastes 8:3)

 

Ok

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When I was growing up, our fun-loving mom served pancakes every Saturday morning, inviting the neighbor kids to join us. She urged us to see who could eat the most, churning out pancakes by the dozen. When I eventually had a kitchen table full of my own children, I carried on the same Saturday morning ritual.

This weekend, in a hotel breakfast nook (eating the free meal that frequently comes with room rental), I learned how pancake-making has reached a new level. Never before had I seen a machine that could turn out fresh 6” pancakes with the push of one button.

It was automated assembly-line flapjacks, and the only thing we had to do was be ready with a plate at the end of the line. Mom would have loved it, the mess-free marriage of chef-ing and tech-ing.

 

If only every life problem could be solved so easily. One-two-three done.

In our efforts to problem-solve, we usually set out steps to follow: first, then next, then eventually, then bingo: solution.

Trouble comes when the end result isn’t what we expected. With the pancake maker, we wait 1 minute while staring at a picture of a fluffy pancake, and after traveling through the short, prescribed steps, it produces what’s been promised.

The problem with life’s dilemmas is twofold: we often don’t know what steps we should take, and even when we know, the result might take us by surprise, like a pancake machine spitting out a muffin.

Interestingly, God is often the one intentionally rearranging the order of our one-two-three’s and setting up those end-surprises. As frustrating as this can be for us, he does it hoping to teach us things we need to know or to reverse our march toward destruction.

We stomp our feet and say, “But one-two-three just has to lead to four! It can’t work any other way!”

If we put God in charge, however, it means saying yes to a bit of uncertainty. His supernatural reasons for doing things don’t resemble our natural ones. They’re better, higher, finer than ours. The only question we have to ask is, “Do I want God’s superior steps with their element of uncertainty or my inferior ones based on human logic?”

He knows that when we sign on with him not knowing where or how he’s going to lead, we feel uneasy. Though he may not eliminate that part of it, he does provide some comfort by letting us see his plan in hindsight. As we do, we’re encouraged to say, “Ok, your way again next time.”

And with enough practice, that ok becomes almost as easy as pushing the ok button on a pancake maker.

“O Lord my God… Your plans for us are too numerous to list. You have no equal. If I tried to recite all your wonderful deeds, I would never come to the end of them.” (Psalm 40:5)

Furry Friend… or Foe?

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Our nation has experienced record-breaking warmth this spring. Experts are confident wintery weather won’t return but that we’ll slide through a balmy spring right into a hot summer. Although I’d been keeping my winter clothes handy, today I gave up and swapped my cold weather wardrobe for the summer stuff.

One winter clothing item has always caused problems, though, even threatening to come between Nate and me years ago. I remember the Christmas he handed me a heavy gift box the size of a suitcase, nearly bouncing up and down in anticipation of me opening it.

He gathered the children to watch as I slowly untied the big red bow, and I just hoped my response to whatever was in the box would measure up to his expectation.

Inside was a full length black mink coat. I was completely taken by surprise, never having asked for a fur coat (or having wanted one). The best I could do was, “Wow! I sure never expected this!”

Nate’s thrill over giving me what he thought every girl always wanted was so strong, he missed my tepid response. Instead he pulled me out of the chair and helped me put it on, dancing me around the room to show the kids what a magnificent gift it was.

They took turns trying it on, bending under its weight, oooing and ahhhing approval. Lest I seem like an ingrate, my surprise at receiving the coat did translate into love and gratitude toward a thoughtful husband who chose his gift because he wanted to please me.

Falling in love with the coat, however, was another matter.

As the weeks went by, the mink became a thorn between us. When it was cold he’d say, “Aren’t you going to wear it?”

I’d say, “Oh sure. Ok.” But he sensed reluctance. My problem with the coat was four-fold. It wouldn’t move with me, it was too warm, too heavy, and worst of all, it made me look fat. It also bothered me that when we went to public places, Nate didn’t want to leave it on a coat rack, concerned for its safety. Instead we took it to our restaurant table or into the church pew. We also had to rent cold storage during the summer, a bill I resented paying.

Thirty years later I still have the coat, and it’s still beautiful, probably because it didn’t get much use. I regret not wearing it more, if for no other reason than to please Nate, and my unappreciative attitude was the perfect example of putting myself ahead of him, the man I loved. It was selfishness to the core. Now, every time I put the coat away for the summer, I feel guilty and wish I could have a re-do.

Sometimes I wonder how many re-do’s I’ll wish I could have when I eventually stand in front of Jesus. It’ll be hundreds. Probably thousands, if wasted and wrong thoughts count, which they will. Although I can’t change my fur coat history, I’m glad I still have time to work on everything else.

As for my mink, the proper thing to do is give it away. Either that, or when winter comes ‘round again, start wearing it.

“The sorrow that is according to the will of God produces a repentance without regret.” (2 Corinthians 7:10)