Skipping Through LIfe

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Jack and I had trouble leaving the beach on this summer-like day perfect for wading. Strolling Lake Michigan’s wave line, I found 9 pieces of beach glass and an abundance of “Indian beads.” The water was smooth with gentle inch-high mini-waves tickling the sand, sparkling with sunshine. I looked up at several jet-stream clouds in a blue sky and thanked God I wasn’t on an airplane moving away from where I stood, pretty stones in my pocket, feet in the water.

Searching for a reason to stay, I decided to skip a few stones, hoping to break my record (though I couldn’t remember what that was). Side-arming flat rocks close to the water, it was fun hunting for good skippers: flat on both sides, thin, not too lightweight, rounded edges. How many thousands of stones had I skipped into this lake? I remember the day Dad taught Mary and me to do it, captivating us with his successful demo (though we didn’t care much about his talk of trajectories and angles).

I also remember teaching our first two boys to skip stones. They took to it immediately as most kids do, flinging rocks into the water like baseball machines fling balls into a batting cage. They’d shout for our attention. “Mom! Papa! Watch this!”

When a stone didn’t skip as they’d hoped, they’d yell again. “That wasn’t a good one! Watch this one! Are you watching?”

Every parent hears this oft-repeated refrain from their kids. “Watch me! Watch me!” We hear it so often it can drive us loony, pulling us from other conversations or thoughts of our own. “Look at me!”

In a way, though, we adults do the same thing. We walk through life wanting to be noticed, and more specifically, appreciated. If we’re skipping along well, we want others to see. If we’re sinking, we want others to care. We don’t shout it to a crowd like children do, but we pray it out to God in private. “Lord, do you see the injustice coming at me here? Are you aware of this other trauma unfolding in my life? Have you looked at my stress level? Examined my pain? Observed my heartache? Are you watching?”

Thankfully his answer to all of the above is a resounding, “Yes!” Although parents become irritated with too many “watch me’s” from their children, God’s patience is bottomless, limitless, boundless. It’s watertight.

He sees us every minute of every day… and night. And unlike weary parents who sometimes look over at their kids just to stop the “watch me’s” from continuing, God watches with genuine interest and sincere compassion each minute that he’s looking at us.

In other words, always.

By the way, the best skipper I had today was only 6, but I know God was watching.

“The eyes of the Lord search the whole earth in order to strengthen those whose hearts are fully committed to him.” (2 Chronicles 16:9a)

Keeping Secrets

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A few weeks ago, I posted a blog about a wedding gift I’d lost track of before attending the wedding. (July 19, “Keeping Track”) The day before the event, I was sure God would let me bump into it, because he’s famous for his 11th hour rescues. But I went to the wedding with a check instead of the vase I’d chosen from the bride and groom’s registry, disappointed in myself and in God.

It’s been several weeks since that happy occasion, but I’ve continued to hunt for the gift, hating the fact that my brain wasn’t sharp enough to remember where I’d put it. God knew where it was, since there’s no secret he doesn’t know, but he wouldn’t tell me. And why was I surprised? He’s all about secrets.

Most of the “why’s” behind life’s unanswered questions are secrets known only to him. Of course he’s God Almighty and doesn’t have to answer to anyone, but there’s another reason behind his secret-keeping.

He’s trying to set an example for the rest of us.

Jesus gives three illustrations of when secrecy should trump openness. The first is our gift-giving. God’s recommendation is that we keep it under wraps. To make his point, he tells us we shouldn’t even let our left hand know what our right is doing. In other words, we should make a big effort to give gifts in secret with no one’s knowledge but God’s. He keeps the books and won’t miss seeing what we do.

Jesus’ second teaching on keeping secrets applies to fasting. Although biblical fasting remains mysterious in terms of how God applies it to our lives, he clearly states we’re to look and act nourished while depriving ourselves of food, keeping it a secret whenever possible. God sees, and that should be enough. After all, he’s the one who will respond to it.

The third secrecy-subject is prayer. Although praying out loud in groups is appropriate, the majority of our prayer ought to be done in secret, one-on-one with God. His instructions are, “Get alone. Shut the door. Pray in private.” He’ll hear us perfectly, and we’ll hear him better then, too.

Giving, praying or fasting with the hope of being noticed negates God’s plans for us. He wants to shower us with goodies he calls “rewards”, but he says he’ll hold those back, if our motives aren’t pure.

And he makes no secret of that.

As for the lost wedding gift, I finally gave up searching, and immediately after that, I found it, nestled in the corner of a 2’ x 3’ box I was about to pitch. God waited until I quit making demands of him, and then he showed me.

We’re not privy to most of his secrets, but once in a while he does let us in on one. Woo hoo!

“The Lord our God has secrets known to no one. We are not accountable for them, but we and our children are accountable forever for all that he has revealed to us.” (Deuteronomy 29:29)

What a Gas

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It isn’t every day I get to spend 8 hours in my car. (This time it was a turn-around trip to an important wedding 4 hours from home, the daughter of my longest-friend.) A one-day road trip offers some nice perks, though: uninterrupted time for praying, thinking and listening to music. Clear weather and light traffic made driving pleasant, and I had Lee (my Aussie GPS buddy) to guide me.

Starting the trip with a gasoline stop, I decided to track my Highlander’s mpg. I’ve put 42,000 miles on this faithful vehicle in 18 months and wanted an excuse to brag about it.

Forty miles into the trip, a silver Honda Civic pulled up on my left, leveling off with me and tooting its horn. Trying to keep my cool, I didn’t look. Surely this person wasn’t inviting a race.

But the tooting continued, so I glanced over, thinking it must be a friend. The driver was waving her arm, pointing to the rear of my car and shouting. Although nothing about my car seemed amiss, I wondered.

“What?” I mouthed, hoping she’d repeat herself, and she rolled down her window. By now a line of irritated cars was following both of us, like we were the lead vehicles in a Grand Prix, but I opened my window, too. Over the rush of wind, I understood her shouts.

It turned out my little fuel door was open with the gas cap blowing around on its wire, not a major crisis but the cause for her heads-up. After nodding a thank you, I worked my way to the shoulder and corrected the problem.

Back on the highway, I thought about this kind stranger and the scores of other drivers who’d passed me noticing the dangling gas cap but chalking it up to a middle-aged woman’s wacky driving. “Thanks for nothin’,” I thought, until God’s heavy hand tapped me.

“Are you kidding, Margaret? How many times have you gone out of your way to help a stranger like Honda-woman just helped you?”

As always, he was right, and I was selfish. Over the next 40 miles I checked every gas cap I passed, hoping to repeat the good deed for someone else. But of course God has more in mind than mere duplication. His idea is that we lend a hand on a full time basis, not for credit from strangers but to please him. After all, this is the example Jesus set.

An hour later at a bathroom stop, I got my first chance. The restroom was sparkling clean except for one paper towel tossed on the floor. I picked it up and put it into the trash, a teeny-tiny, itsy-bitsy, mini-good deed.

By the way, my Highlander clocked 23 mpg, and if I can keep the gas inside the tank, next time it may do even better.

“Let your light shine before others, that they may see your good deeds.” (Matthew 5:16)