Synchronized Walking

Posted on April 20, 2015 by Margaret

I live in a quiet neighborhood with narrow lanes running between the houses, no curbs, no sidewalks. The streets are the sidewalks, and people use them for long walks, bike rides, exercise jogs, or (like Jack and I), slow strolls.

The other day I saw a couple power-walking up a steep road toward the lake, the man over six feet tall and the lady under five feet. Somehow, though, they were stepping together in perfect synchrony. After they walked around Jack and I at a fast clip, I studied their movement, trying to figure out how the two of them could possibly have the same length of stride with such different length of legs.

Though their walking looked natural for both of them, the only possible answer was that the man had shortened his steps and the lady had lengthened hers till they met somewhere in the middle. Amazing.

This willingness to change the way they originally walked on their own probably didn’t come without effort. The process must have taken determination from both of them. But the end-result was perfect-pacing that let them walk together as if they were partnered in a smooth dance.

What a great example of how God wants us to pair up with him. First he needs to know we want to get in step with him, to walk in his way. Then he’s hoping we’ll follow up with the work it takes for us to make the necessary changes. (If I’m typical, this can take years.)

As we’re working on that, amazingly God begins to walk so close to our steps that it seems he’s the one making all the adjustments. But what’s really happening is that our submission to his pacing-plans has caused him to facilitate changes in our stride that we never thought we could manage.

Just as it’s a wonder how the tall man and the short lady make synchronized walking work so well, it’s mysterious how God improves our ability to walk in sync with him. We aren’t making it happen; he is, in response to our desire for it.

As for my neighbors, if I had stopped them and asked how hard it had been for each of them to adapt their steps to the other, they probably would have looked at me quizzically and said, “Oh, we just walk together like that naturally.”

My hope is that one distant day I’ll be walking in step with the Lord so naturally that I won’t even remember what it was like to walk in my own way.

“My feet have closely followed his steps…” (Job 23:11)

Bubble-ology

Posted on April 16, 2015 by Margaret

Emerald continues to be fascinated with bubbles, her longest running passion by far. From the time she could follow an image with her baby-eyes, she’s loved bubbles. At her request we blow bubbles together every time she visits my house and haven’t missed a single day.

In little Emerald’s mind, bubbles are ever-captivating, always new. Today she was mesmerized by the barely audible “tih” they made when hitting the ground, bending low to listen.

Wanting to learn more, she stopped her normal never-ending chatter so she could hear the bubbles land, batch after batch. Then she tried to mimic that tiny sound with her lips. I don’t believe she’ll ever tire of bubble-ology.

Last week, though, I was as much in awe as she was over yet another discovery. We were blowing bubbles out on the deck when a gentle breeze ushered them toward a nearby evergreen. But instead of popping as they usually did when hitting the sharp branches, they actually landed, sitting on the needles indefinitely! It was remarkable.

I studied Emerald as she studied the bubbles, having wonder written all over her face. Yet I couldn’t help but think of how many more astounding things there are in this world for her still to discover. Though she has absorbed a great deal in her two short years, there’s far more ahead.

And then I suddenly realized the same is true of me. As God was looking down at the two of us that day, ages 2 and 69, our level of knowledge was nearly identical by his standards. Actually, both of us are still like newborns in our learning, which isn’t a criticism of us as much as a compliment to him. Though I’ve learned more than Emerald so far, none of it amounts to more than the quiet “tih” of a popping bubble compared to what both of us are going to know in life after death.

Scripture gives us a word picture for all this. When we adults were Emerald’s age, we absorbed life differently than we do now in later years. (1 Corinthians 13:11) Paul says this vast difference between a child’s learning and a grownup’s is a good picture of the enormous difference between what we know in this world and what we’ll know in the next.

In our human existence we can’t possibly take in all God has for us to discover. But in our “glorified state” after death, we will immediately know completely. That’s Scripture’s promise, and it’s a marvel to eagerly anticipate.

As for our pine tree bubble-phenom, I’m sure scientists could offer an explanation: barometric pressure, humidity, dew point, or something else. But Emerald and I don’t have to go after the “why,” because God will give it to us eventually. In the mean time, all we have to do is enjoy our amazing bubbles.

“Now I know in part, but then I shall know fully.” (1 Corinthians 13:12)

Four Disappointments

Posted on April 12, 2015 by Margaret

On Wednesdays I get to play with Emerald until 8:30 pm while Birgitta attends classes, and though there’s lots to do at “MeeMee’s house,” sometimes it’s fun to go elsewhere. Last Wednesday we decided to head for a Michigan City McDonald’s where we’ve often enjoyed a kiddie playland. Emerald’s “Auntie Weezi,” who lives nearby, agreed to meet us there.

We arrived a few minutes early, so I decided to catch up on texting while Emerald played in the driver’s seat, her new fascination. It wasn’t 5 minutes before Louisa arrived, and we went in. But what a surprise to find the entire Playland had been torn down in preparation for remodeling. That was disappointment #1.

Heading back to the car to seek other entertainment, we discovered my battery was dead. Emerald had turned on the headlights during her playtime behind the wheel. Disappointment #2.

But Weezi saved the day! Unbelievably, she had jumper cables in her trunk, so all we needed was someone to hook them up. (We both knew approximately what to do, but a little knowledge is a dangerous thing.)

As we stood between the two cars eyeing people coming and going, a cable-angel appeared out of nowhere, a young man in a navy pea coat.

“Do you know anything about jumping cars?” I asked.

“Sure,” he said, taking the cables from Weezi.

But when he clicked them together, they didn’t spark. “I don’t think they’re any good,” he said. Disappointment #3.

“Could we try anyway?” I said, hoping God would somehow energize the cables just this once. But our cable-angel was right. They were, indeed, dead. Disappointment #4.

“I’ll find someone with good cables,” he said, heading toward McDonalds. “Really?” we said, but within two minutes, he and a uniformed McDonalds employee emerged waving car keys.

“In my trunk!” the employee said, retrieving his cables and bringing them over. When my car sprung to life, Louisa and I applauded, but the cable-angel brushed it off like it was nothing.

“Wait,” I said, reaching for my purse. “Let us give you something.”

“Absolutely not,” he said, walking back toward McDonalds.

“Can’t we at least buy you a burger?” I said, waving a bill at him.

“Nope. Glad to help!” he said, disappearing inside.

Standing between our purring cars, we realized that his one good deed had obliterated our four disappointments. And how good it felt to be on the receiving end of an unexpected blessing.

Of course the take-away is that we ought to be doing the same for others. Though playing the part of an angel is inconvenient, being a blessing to a needy person makes both parties feel pretty good. And surely it must bless God, too.

Emerald never saw a playland, but she had some good fun in my driver’s seat. And the dead battery that resulted brought some good fun to Louisa and me, too.