Category Archives: God’s plans for us

A-maze-ing

Posted on by

When I was a kid, one of summertime’s greatest pleasures was visiting an amusement park. Although no one had yet heard of Six Flags, the Chicago area had Riverview, and southwest Michigan had Silver Beach. We took advantage of both places as often as our parents would let us. It helped that even the best rides cost only a quarter, and on five-cent day, they were all a nickel.

ParachutesThough we loved the roller coasters best, both parks offered all kinds of other excitement. One had a free-fall ride called the Parachutes with nothing more than a flat swing-seat and a limp chain to keep us from tumbling out. The other had a Fun House with a slide several stories high.

We also got a kick out of sitting on a flat disk the size of a living room that spun so fast not one rider could fight centrifugal force enough to stay on. Kids flew off at high speed onto carpet that gave them lots of pink rug burns — battle wounds, we’d say.

Something else both places offered was a Maze. Made with a dazzling array of sheeted glass and mirror, they fooled even the cautious. I learned by experience that over-confidence in a maze was a sure-fire way to go home with a goose-egg on your forehead.

Mirror MazeThese mazes were put together with their panels set at 45-degree angles, confusing us further by our own reflections, not just in front of us but in back, on the side, and “way over there.” It’s the perfect definition of “meeting yourself com- ing and going.” But we paid to get lost in them again and again.

Once in a while life itself seems like a maze, especially when it comes to making important decisions. The process can be much like finding our way through an amusement park maze: part frustration, part fascination. Just when we’re sure we see the way out, we slam into a dead-end…. sometimes with consequences far more damaging than goose-eggs.

So how are we to make wise choices?

By questioning God. But when we ask him, “Is it this or that?” we should be prepared to hear, “The other.”

Maze.God doesn’t do things conventionally, because he’s got ideas that would knock our socks off if he showed us all at once. So when we ask for decision-help, his guidance may not make immediate sense. That’s because he’s already way down the road in front of us, like a friend in a mirrored maze who we see but have no idea how to get to.

The important thing is that God isn’t out to deceive us the way maze designers are. His desire is just the opposite of theirs, not to trap us but to move us in an orderly way toward the good conclusion he has in mind. And as we trust his wisdom over our own, he’ll even get us there without any goose-eggs.

“Show me the way I should go, for to you I entrust my life.” (Psalm 143:8)

Labor and Delivery

Posted on by

Most of my writing is done in the smallest room in our house. We lightheartedly call it “the library” because there are book shelves in there, but that’s a stretch.

Once in a while, though, I’ve labeled this room something else: our womb-room.

IMG_2645It’s where Nate’s hospital bed was set up during his short-lived struggle with cancer, and we kept it as quiet and safe as possible. He and I retreated there each evening, closing the small French doors behind us, to talk in low tones about important stuff.

As Nate’s need for sleep increased, he spent less time in his living room recliner and more on his bed in this room, drifting into sleep earlier each evening. As he slept, I still sat next to him, aware that each day was bringing us closer to death’s separation.

I often thought about what Nate’s doctor had told me privately: “Birth and death are both messy.” Both also require some hard labor.

A baby’s birth forces him from a dark, warm, safe environment to the bright lights, cold air, and sharp noises outside the womb. And from a baby’s perspective, life after birth isn’t all that safe, starting with his first scrubbing in the hospital nursery.

Dying has its parallels. Nate’s physical death was an exit from a womb, too, our small womb-room, with its peaceful, dimly-lit atmosphere. Just like a baby’s birth requires arduous labor accompanied by pain, Nate’s transition was laborious, too, a regimen of pain caused by disease.

These days the hospital bed is long gone, and as I sit and write in our little womb-room, I often think through the details of what went on here in the fall of 2009. I recall everything Nate went through, thankful to know that what we witnessed wasn’t as much a transition from life to death as a transition from life-with-limits to life-unlimited.

As physical birth brings great joy to a mother and father (and a smile to a baby’s face eventually), being born to eternal life is far more spectacular than that!

It means delivery from suffering of all kinds and a reunion with those we love who have preceded us there. It means the disappearance of any deficiencies and the start-up of abilities we can’t even imagine. And it means the end of all negative emotions, the uptick of all positive ones.

Best of all, though, it means talking and walking with Jesus Christ himself, along with the satisfaction of finally seeing what he looks like. It means watching his facial expressions, listening to his tone of voice, understanding his words, and feeling his touch.

I can’t imagine any labor and delivery with a better end-result than all that.

“If you remain faithful even when facing death, I will give you the crown of life.” (Revelation 2:10)

When We’re Ready

Posted on by

Every young child loves to “help” his or her mommy. That may be because God placed a drive within them to mimic, or simply because what adults do seems fascinating from the outside looking in. (Think blue Windex spray bottles, shiny sharp knives, and the buttons on the wash machine.)

“Me do it!” or “By my own self!” are often early sentences, and children think of themselves as every adult’s equal.

Spray bottleThe other day, two-year-old Emerald borrowed the spray water bottle from her bathtub toys and went-to-town washing windows. The only trouble was that the window she chose was Birgitta’s flat screen TV, which now is no more.

Adults know the truth about being given responsibility before capability. So they try to walk that fine line between letting children assist and giving them free rein. Take vacuuming, for example.

Isaac assistingMy grandson Isaac, 13 months, loves the family vacuum. With 4 youngsters ages 6 and under in the house, this attractive tool makes an appearance daily, and Isaac longs to be in charge of it.

Of particular interest is the warm vent-air that blows out the side, and Linnea patiently lets him “help” as she makes her way around a room. But turning it over to him would be ridiculous. The tidying-up would remain undone, and dust and crumbs wouldn’t be the only things going inside the vacuum.

We can draw a spiritual parallel when it comes to our relationship with God. Often we think we’re capable of spiritual accomplishments he hasn’t yet trained us to do. Just as children watch their mommy and figure they can do what she does, we look at others doing “great things for the Lord” and wish we could do the same.

It’s honorable to want to accomplish for God. We love him dearly, and in trying to please him, can set our sights on tasks beyond our readiness. Along with that, we can be off in categorizing certain jobs as loftier than others.

His list of what’s important and what isn’t probably doesn’t match ours, and a job we consider to be low-level might be his highest calling for our here-and-now. For example, there’s not a much lowlier task than changing poopy diapers, but doing it faithfully is to participate in the high calling of motherhood.

Isaac moving in to take chargeAnd so, we should patiently pursue whatever God places in front of us with the tools he’s trained us to use. And if we get ahead of him, we can think of little Isaac’s relationship with the vacuum and know that the better plan is to wait till God says we’re ready.

“Concentrate on doing your best for God, work you won’t be ashamed of…” (2 Timothy 2:15)

Praising and Praying with Mary

  1. Last year on St. Patrick’s Day I underwent the Whipple surgery to remove a tumor from my pancreas. I never thought I’d see another St. Patrick’s Day, but here we are, thanking the Lord for this gift.
  2. As our entire family (25 of us) vacation together in Florida, please pray that my bad sinus infection will soon clear so I can participate without passing it along to anyone else. Thanks!