There’s a limit.

Having been raised by a “yes-mom,” I wanted to be one too, but sometimes that got me into trouble. Like the time I agreed to let Louisa own a couple of piranhas. But my “yes” was for a good reason: a school science project. Her plan was to see if piranhas were as ferocious as everyone said they were, by watching and charting their eating habits.

We went to the local fish store, and the proprietor led us to a divided tank where two piranhas lived. While he netted and bagged them, Louisa and I listened to his fish stories, which were entertaining until he stuck his finger in front of our noses and said, “See this big notch? A piranha tried to eat me once.”

But Louisa’s two fish were already bagged, so with wide eyes, we left the store.

Apparently piranhas will eat anything, gobbling up other fish, plants, whatever looks tasty. They’ll even attack prey larger than they are, including (gulp) humans, if they have the chance.

Louisa faithfully fed her piranhas by adding several goldfish to the tank each day, careful not to get too close when she did, and little by little, the goldfish disappeared. It was impossible to watch the piranhas eating them, though, since they wouldn’t dine while she was in the room. Eventually she left a video camera running and did catch them eating, on film. The camera, however, couldn’t detail the lightning fast attack-and-gulp of those piranhas. Each kill happened in a split second.

Louisa’s piranha project didn’t yield too much scientific data, but it did deliver an unexpected conclusion. A few days after she had stopped taping, she walked into her room and saw that one piranha had eaten the other.

These fish have insatiable appetites, along with strong determination to satisfy them, no matter what. Sadly, we humans often operate the same way, going to great lengths to satisfy our desires, and I don’t mean just with food but in all categories. Walking that center line between wanting something good and pursuing too much of it is a difficult place to live, but that’s usually the exact spot where God wants us. The question is, why?

Maybe he’s assigned us the difficult job of setting limits for ourselves so we’ll have repeated opportunities to be victorious. Then, as we’re willing to work on it, he roots for us, offering help along the way and hoping we’ll succeed.

After Louisa’s science fair ended (without a blue ribbon), she had wanted to keep the remaining piranha as a pet, but I was nervous about housing such a vicious animal. So we brought him back to the store, for lack of any other ideas of how to get rid of him. The guy took one look and said, “Whoa! How much did you feed this guy? He’s 4 times bigger than he should be!”

And I guess that’s a good reminder that giving in to big appetites only leads to bigger ones.

“Each person is tempted when he is lured and enticed by his own desire. [God] tempts no one.” (James 1:14,13)

A Modeling Job

Some of us are auditory learners, some visual, but all of us learn by doing. Children are champions at this. They find out about gravity by jumping off the top bunk, about swimming by wading into water over their heads, about cooking by burning themselves on the pan handle, about cleaning by spraying Windex in their eyes, and about flying by leaping off the garage roof.

They also learn by watching us. Whatever we’re doing, they want to do it too, which forces us to screen our behavior through a values-filter. Our firstborn, Nelson, was willing to follow any example.

One warm day I pulled the hose out for his playtime, and our litter of 8 puppies came running. As the driveway puddled with water, they began lapping it up, and I went for my camera. When I returned, though, instead of pix of puppies drinking, I caught this:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Nelson simply watched and then modeled what he’d seen.

More than once I’ve heard a pastor tell his congregation, “All of you are being watched by somebody, so be careful how you act.” Parents feel the burden of this, which is one reason why having children is good for us. We’re forced to clean up our acts.

But kids aren’t the only ones watching. When I was a child we sang this little Sunday school ditty:

  • Be careful little hands what you do.
  • Be careful little hands what you do;
  • For the Father up above is looking down in love,
  • So be careful little hands what you do.

That third line is the kicker. Our modeling before others matters, partly because they might copy us, but more importantly because God is watching. Although he doesn’t watch in order to follow our example (yikes!), he does want us to know he’s watching, and Scripture says so. The question then is, does knowing he’s watching make us clean up our acts?

The “Be Careful” chorus has 3 more verses:

  • Be careful little eyes what you see… etc.
  • Be careful little ears what you hear… etc.
  • Be careful little feet where you go… etc.

So, what does it mean to be careful?

Like the song says, we ought not to touch, look, listen, or go, before looking at our Father to see what he’s modeling for us. What example-to-follow is he giving us in each particular situation? The answer is found in the life of Jesus, our perfect model. If we copy him, then our children and others can watch us and imitate what they see, and it’ll work out well.

May we study Jesus and walk in his way, so that when God looks at us, he’ll be pleased with what he sees. I’m not sure where he stands on drinking off a driveway, but it’s probably ok to set that one aside.

The Apostle Paul wrote, “Follow my example, as I follow the example of Christ. (1 Corinthians 11:1)

 

But I want it!

When I was 9 years old, our 4th grade class studied Africa. One textbook photo showed a family of elephants, the adults protectively circled around several babies. My youthful eyes landed on those little elephants with their miniature trunks and wispy baby hair, and I fell in love.

At the dinner table that night I told my family I was going to get a baby elephant for a pet. Everyone had a good laugh and moved on to other topics, but 9 year olds don’t give up easily. I began a relentless campaign to get my elephant and refused to let it drop, even putting my plan in writing to try to make Dad understand.

I told him I would take full responsibility, would build a shed for my elephant in the back yard, and would make money to buy his food by giving rides to neighbor kids. Every bit of this logic was sincere and (at least in my mind) doable.

It didn’t take long for Mom and Dad to tire of my elephant talk, and eventually they delivered a clean-cut “no” along with, “Don’t bring it up again.” Then they added a kicker: “Margaret, you need to be content with what you already have.”

I wasn’t, and determined not to be, until I got my elephant.

Fifty-seven years later, I’ve given up on the elephant but still have trouble with contentment. My unrest isn’t from wanting a bigger house, a newer car, nicer clothes, or any other touchable possession. It’s a craving for a greater understanding of God and a mind like Christ.

Sometimes I listen to a teacher pray passionately for global revival and wonder why I’m not crying like she is. I watch a Bible study video and can’t believe I missed the specific truth she got from the verses. I hear a sermon about miracles and want to see them happening all around me. Scripture says, “No matter how much we see, we are never satisfied. No matter how much we hear, we are not content. (Ecclesiastes 1:8)

True. And it applies as much to intangibles as to tangibles.

Finding contentment with what we have and then resting in it doesn’t come easily. The apostle Paul told us he’d found it (Philippians 4:11), and we wonder how. Then we look backwards at his life and see that virtually everything had been taken from him: home, possessions, position, respect, safety, authority, even his health. After that, if he received anything back, he appreciated it no-end and was content. He didn’t get angry or bitter, because his contentment was based on something other than what he had or didn’t have. It was based on Christ.

So, I have 2 choices. I can either lose everything like Paul did and learn contentment the hard way, or I can set aside my restlessness and let God decide when (or if) he’ll give me what I hope to receive.

And while I’m waiting, maybe I’ll take a trip to the zoo.

“True godliness with contentment is itself great wealth.” (1 Timothy 6:6)