Grey Matter(s)

Psychologists can study American culture just by looking at bumper stickers, short and snappy statements that tell society’s story. Yesterday I saw a new one: “THERE ARE NO GREY AREAS.”

Many of us wish for that, life lived in the clear distinctions of black and white, but reality teaches us most of what we encounter is in grey zones. By grey I’m not implying there’s indecision or wishy-washy-ness, just too many possibilities.

Whenever we’re trying to make a decision and think, “Boy oh boy, I’m just not sure,” we’re in a grey zone. Thoughts like “Absolutely!” or “No way!” qualify as black or white, and we’re accepting of those. But why is it so difficult to live in the grey? Why did the bumper sticker truck driver not want any of it?

Maybe it’s because we become frustrated with unsolved problems and don’t like to be in doubt about anything. That feels “off,” like a mystery novel unresolved by the last page. Even Scripture has verses that are colored grey. When we hear that biblical scholars have debated for decades about specific passages, we know those particular verses have been written in shades of grey.

Surely, though, God has grey-tinged purposes for us. A period of wrestling with difficult dilemmas stretches our ability to problem-solve (i.e. making good use of our grey matter). Grey zone struggles are also fertile ground for opinion changes. As we puzzle through problems, a period of time in the grey zone might be just the thing to change an unwise choice to a wise one.

Grey areas also offer the benefit of wiggle room, a good place to debate opposing opinions. If a discussion isn’t limited to the extremes of black or white, there’s a good chance opposite views can land somewhere in the middle, in the grey zone.

As we try to cope with times of grey in our lives, once in a while we do need the relief of clear-cut black or white. Thankfully the Lord is willing to provide that, and despite a bit of biblical grey, most of what’s written on those pages is delineated in crystal clear black and white.

Front and center is his brightly colored love for all of us, which probably isn’t either black or white. It’s probably sparkling with every color in the rainbow. But one thing we know for sure: it isn’t grey.

As for the truck with the bumper sticker about no grey areas? It was grey.

“How blessed are the people who… walk in the light of [the Lord’s] countenance.” (Psalm 89:15)

Snapping toward Zero

Friday while driving from Michigan to Chicago, I saw a van painted like a can of Coke Zero, black with red writing. Since I love Coke Zero and was enjoying one at the time, I thought I’d pull alongside and hold up my can. The driver would see how enthusiastically I endorsed his product, and it might make his day.

But as I leveled off with him, I glanced at the driver who, it turned out, was far too busy to notice my raised can. With one hand holding a phone to his ear and the other texting on a different phone, I figured he was probably driving with his knee. I decided the wisest thing was to distance myself from him and his no-handed driving.

Multi-tasking is one thing, but being stretched too thin is something else. A perfect illustration is our age-old childhood friend, Silly Putty. We all played with this rubbery stuff as kids, shaping and reshaping it endlessly without it ever becoming dry or hard.

If we rolled it into a ball, it bounced around the room energetically, never running out of pep. But if we stretched it slowly side-to-side, it thinned with impressive elasticity that seemed to go on forever. Until, that is, it broke in two.

Each of us can take only so much stretching-thin before we fall apart. It’s true God gives us work we must do, just like he gave jobs to Adam and Eve. Scripture says we’ll also have tasks to accomplish in heaven. But the work of Eden was deeply satisfying, and the work of heaven promises to be rewarding. Meanwhile, present-day work between those two ends isn’t nearly as good. Because of that it can quickly stretch us thin and bring on a snap.

Of course we’ve all been told to choose work that leans into our natural giftings. Nate told our children, “Try to make a living doing something you love.” That’s wise counsel but doesn’t always work out. So what do we do if we can’t work at what we love? Is there another way to keep from cracking under frustrating workloads?

There is.

Proverbs says, “Commit your works to the Lord, and your thoughts shall be established.” (16:3) Scripture tells us that even those tasks that don’t use our natural skills can take on rich meaning if we’ll first dedicate them to him. I learned this years ago in reference to the endless, messy work of motherhood. If we’ll pull God into whatever job we have to do, we’ll do well at managing it, and more importantly, we’ll change the way we think about it. The NLT version says our plans will actually succeed. That’s a pretty good deal.

I’m not sure, however, if God will ever make it easy to talk on the phone, text a message, and drive with a knee, all at the same time.

“Commit your way to the Lord; trust in him, and he will act.” (Psalm 37:5)

God’s Cooperation

Although I’ve been back in Michigan for a week now, a piece of my heart stayed behind with my Florida grandchildren. What they said and did will be on my mind for quite a while. For example, one day I was complimenting Skylar on a stick figure she’d drawn when she said, “Both of his legs are broken, Midgee.”

“Oh dear,” I said.

“But they’re fixed now,” she said.

“Oh, that’s good,” I said. “So, he went to the hospital?”

“Oh no! Jesus fixed ‘em. Jesus fixes everything.”

It’s wonderful that Skylar credits Jesus with being the Great Fixer of all things, but from an adult perspective we might think, “Does he really fix everything? Not in my experience. My spouse is ill. Or my job was eliminated, my teen is rebelling, my 401K is shrinking, my parents are infirm.”

Since Skylar and I were already into a theological discussion, I asked for her opinion on that dilemma.  “What if the man’s legs stayed broken? What if Jesus decided not to fix them?”

Without even looking up from her crayon work, she shrugged and said, “Well, he would just fix ’em later.”

I’ve thought about that statement since being home and whether or not adults can trust Jesus to come through as readily as Skylar does. But of course there’s one big problem she didn’t address: the lame man’s point of view.

If a lame man’s legs don’t get healed when he expects they will, how is he supposed to cope during that frustrating time between no-not-now and for-sure-later? What if that period spans his whole life and healing doesn’t occur until heaven? How can he handle it?

Although broken legs do eventually mend, we’ve all known people who became ill and stayed that way for many years, despite our intense prayers for healing. Some have even prayed for God to let them die. Why does God often allow people to suffer long-term like that? What benefit could there be? If he’s not going to heal them on this earth, then why not pluck them from their agony sooner rather than later?

Here are 4 possibilities:

  • Soul-work might need to occur. Putting people in hospital beds is an effective way to arrest their attention and get the work done.
  • God might want to teach a person to graciously accept charity, uncomfortable for most of us since it involves a self-humbling process.
  • Maybe he wants to develop an attitude of servanthood in healthy people toward those who are ailing, giving them an opportunity to help for the long haul.
  • And of course those who are sick can teach the rest of us a great deal about how to manage suffering, by their example.

When God answers our prayers for healing with “no” or “maybe later,” just like Skylar we should remain confident he’ll say “yes” eventually, even if, as she says, it’s much later. But while we wait, we can be certain God is delaying for some very compelling reasons.

“Sitting down, Jesus called the Twelve and said, ‘Anyone who wants to be first must be the very last, and the servant of all.’” (Mark 9:35)