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)

Accident Prevention

After making 6 errand-stops this afternoon, I was finally heading home on an expressway when the familiar red and blue flashing lights of police cars ahead made me think, “Oh oh.” Driving closer, I counted 7 squad cars plus several emergency vehicles and tow trucks clustered around an accident scene in the median. The centerpiece of the commotion was a giant upsidedown semi-truck.

The three lanes on my side of the highway didn’t slow while passing the chaotic scene, but on the other side, with lanes partially blocked by the accident, cars and trucks were stopped for miles. And because of a wide curve on the highway, most of those stuck in traffic couldn’t see the reason for the delay.

They couldn’t see the flashing lights or the overturned truck or the cadre of highway workers trying to bring order. Drivers who were stuck in the jam-up but short on time were no doubt frustrated at the forced rescheduling of their plans and were probably hoping that at the end of the whole mess there would be someone to blame.

As I continued driving past the long lines of congested traffic on the opposite side of the road, it impacted me that I’d seen the accident they hadn’t yet come to, so I knew something they didn’t. The cause of their holdup wasn’t lane closures or construction or line-painting but a life-and-death disaster, immediately ahead. I also knew that no matter how irritated these drivers became while waiting to move forward, once they’d inched ahead enough to get a look at that heap of twisted metal, their anger would melt away.

Coming in its place would be a series of rapid-fire questions: What happened here? Where’s the truck driver? Is he alive? Was anyone else hurt? Or killed? What if I’d been driving a few seconds earlier? Would I have been in that accident?

These would be important questions to ponder as they’d get their first glimpse of the accident, gaping at the wreck. By the time they would have passed, their “What’s the delay?!” would have switched to “Oh my goodness!” maybe even landing them in a place of gratitude for their own safety, hopefully gratitude toward God.

None of us should be without a steady heartbeat of thankfulness toward the Lord. His rescues are consistently happening, even if we’re unaware of exactly what he’s saved us from or how he’s done it. To be sure, though, he is preventing mishaps and tragedies by the dozens, over and over again, every single day as we move through our regular routines.

And today I was reminded that once in a while he even lets us in on the specifics, as he did with the highway accident. The fact that none of us were in it should automatically make us truly thankful.

“Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly… with thankfulness in your hearts to God. (Colossians 3:16)