Category Archives: God’s plans for us

Figure it out.

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Nelson was about to arrive home after 8 months away, so I was outside Windex-ing the windows on The Bean in preparation for his reunion with this small, well-traveled vehicle. Window glass is the only Bean feature that could ever sparkle.

In the process, a tiny but sharp piece of acorn got wedged between the ball of my foot and my flip-flop. Every time I stepped, it was, “Ouch. Ouch. Ouch.”

Finally I took off the sandal, shook it, rubbed the bottom of my foot, and put it back on. But the ouch was still there. I repeated it twice more, never taking time to study the problem, but the sharp something was always there. Finally I put down the Windex and looked. The flip-flop was clean and smooth. Same for my foot. So I put it back on.

But still!

And there was nothing there. Slowly I rocked forward onto the ball of my foot, mimicking a step, and it poked again, but there was nothing to see. So I pulled it off and pressed my finger on the smooth place that mysteriously got sharp, bending the sandal like it was walking.

Ouch again!

Finally I turned it over. And there was the problem: a stubby sharp screw embedded in the sole, pointing straight up,  just deep enough to jab me when my weight pressed on it. I unscrewed it and had a good chuckle.

While finishing my window washing, I thought about God’s faithful efforts to prod me into following his instructions. His jab might be a sentence in a devotional book: poke.

If I put that out of my mind, he might poke again, maybe a radio program or a friend’s comment on that same subject: jab.

On and on his little ouchies go until I stop what I’m doing and turn my attention to the subject at hand, much like I took off the flip-flop and shook it out, rubbing my foot. But noticing something still isn’t owning it: poke.

Hopefully I’ll be troubled enough by God’s prodding to eventually investigate, looking beneath the jab in an effort to find the source of irritation.

Sadly, our obedience sometimes starts with irritation. We’re frustrated with a new path to walk, a new skill to hone, a new person to meet, a new risk to take. If we’re happy with the status quo, all this newness can be distressing.

But God’s love for us is strong: poke. And he hopes eventually the annoyance of his jabbing will outweigh our reluctance to turn our attention toward him.

I want to develop a quick, inquisitive response to his prodding. In the mean time, I’m thankful the pushy little screw ended up in my flip-flop rather than in The Bean’s brand new tires!

“I am the Lord your God, who teaches you what is best for you, who directs you in the way you should go.”  (Isaiah 48:17b)

Finding the Lost

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When I was fresh out of college, teaching in the Chicago school system, my bank account was flush with paychecks and very few financial commitments. The dollars piled up, and a friend suggested I swap my Chevy Corvair for something classier.

I bought another Chevrolet but this time a Corvette convertible with both hard and soft tops. It was candy apple red and full of speed. With an apartment on Chicago’s near north side, 3 great roommates and a secure job, I was enjoying my new independence.

One busy Sunday afternoon I arrived back at the apartment planning to stay only a few minutes and parked my Corvette on the street without putting up the top. In less than 10 minutes, it had been stolen.

I called the police, filed a report, posted notices and drove a borrowed car through Chicago neighborhoods in search of my beloved Corvette, but it had vanished.

On this 10 year anniversary of the 9/11 attacks, while listening to a recitation of casualty names, I thought about the nearly 3000 people who had vanished that day. Hospitals were staffed and waiting, but very few patients ever arrived. For weeks family members believed their loved ones might still be found alive, so they posted pictures and desciptions throughout the city.

Bus stop shelters and phone booths became makeshift bulletin boards covered with photos and names as hopeful people tried to connect with those they couldn’t find, but precious few succeeded. Yesterday I heard the gruesome statistic: only 39 bodies were actually found in the rubble.

None of those 3000 planned to finish their lives that day, but just like them, the rest of us don’t pick our last day either. It takes exceptional planning to be ready, and apart from God, none of us can be.

But there’s a big difference between New York’s picture Lost and Found and God’s. Every one of us start out lost because of our inherited bent toward sin, like pictures on a bulletin board waiting to be rescued. Thankfully, God’s finder fee was paid by Christ, and 100% of those who want to be found, are.

If it were up to God, his Lost and Found would be completely empty, nothing on the bulletin board, no pictures of the lost. But he’s left it up to each of us. And with unplanned last-days like September 11, 2001, a decision that says “yes” to being found by the Lord is better made now rather than later.

(As for the red Corvette, against all odds the police found it 24 hours later, in tact except for the screwdriver where the starter had been.)

“The Son of Man came to seek and save those who are lost. Now is the time of God’s favor; now is the day of salvation.” (Luke 19:10, 2 Corinthians 6:2)

Fairy Tale Living

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When Nate and I got married in 1969, Pastor Sweeting asked each of us for a favorite Bible verse he could incorporate into our wedding ceremony. As a 24-year-old, I looked ahead to the fairy tale life Nate and I would lead, unaware of the twists and turns we would have to take. So I told the pastor my favorite verse was 2 Samuel 22:33: “God is my strength and power, and He makes my way perfect.” And that, along with Nate’s favorite, was the Scripture he used.

Life was perfect back then. I was a bride with a handsome groom looking toward endless bright tomorrows. Although I had only a perfunctory relationship with God, I thought my wedding verse summarized exactly how life would unfold: perfectly. At that moment, “my way was perfect,” though I don’t recall crediting God for any of it.

As the Lord would have it, though, life wouldn’t be the fairy-tale I’d envisioned. He loved me too much not to put some bumps on our road. In his view, hard times would be the reason I’d step closer to him.

Since those idyllic days of 1969, I’ve learned life may have brief moments of fairy tale happiness, but this side of heaven, that can’t be the theme. I’ve also learned that rough patches do have the capacity for joy buried in them.

In 2004 I was asked a second time about my favorite verse. Mom surprised us at her 90th birthday party, arriving with 23 gifts for her 3 children, 3 children-in-law, and 17 grandchildren: a Bible for each one, the style, translation and cover chosen to match the different personalities. Then she said,  “Next year when I turn 91, the only birthday gift I want is for each of you to write down your favorite verse from your new Bible and tell me why.”

I didn’t have to think long. Although 2 Samuel 22:33 is still God’s inspired truth, the verse I’d needed most often in the 35 years since our wedding, had been a different one. Despite my fairy tale expectations in 1969, troubles had, indeed, found us, and I’d needed God’s practical help, as well as a way to find joy within struggles.

I found both by claiming my special verse: James 1:5.

“If any of you lacks wisdom, you should ask God, who gives generously to all without finding fault, and it will be given to you.”  

God hopes his Word will come in handy for us. He says it’s alive and able to empower us to get through each dilemma that comes. As we use Scripture for everyday purposes we’re actually linking up with eternity, because God’s Word is established in heaven.

And maybe when we get there, instead of relying on one favorite verse, we’ll automatically have the whole Bible memorized, a grand finale’ unmatched by any fairy tale.

“Heaven and earth will pass away, but my words will never pass away.” (Matthew 24:35)