Travel Perks

Last weekend my trip out west included 3 airports: Chicago, Albuquerque, and Denver. Many months previously, I’d bought 3 one way tickets online, the best way to form my travel-triangle. It was a laborious task but concluded well, except for one thing.

As I was studying computer pages that night long ago, my frequent flyer miles popped up in a side column: “Would you like to use miles to purchase this ticket?” I’d never done that and wasn’t sure, but it sounded pretty good. So I “spent” 25,000 miles and “bought” the Denver-Chicago leg for free.

Priority luggageSomething funny happened after that, though. When I clicked “yes” on choosing a seat, the computer pictured only the front section of the plane. Apparently I’d “bought” a priority ticket. When the next screen prompted me to select from a dinner menu, I knew I had. A flight less than 2 hours doesn’t usually include dinner with its mini-pretzels.

During my 5 days out west, I was surprised at how often I thought of that priority seat waiting for me: 3A, front row. Though I didn’t tell my girlfriends about my mistake, I got gladder and gladder, thinking of all those first class travel perks.

Many of us move through life in economy mode, sometimes wondering what it’s like in either direction (up or down). But God gives and also takes away as he considers what’s best for each of us, so that wherever we “land”, we’ll be where we should be. This reasoning presents problems, however, especially when we think of suffering children or deprived older adults. The world is full of painful shortages, and it’s difficult to come to terms with why God allows them.

As always, our example should be Jesus, a royal king who forfeited his wealth and power to become poor in all categories. He did it willingly, eagerly, although not as an experiment or a contest. He did it out of love so that the rest of us could one day become rich beyond measure, actually sharing his unlimited inheritance. From what I read in Scripture, our future lives will be worth all the shortages we experience in our present lives. The words “priority” or “first class” won’t be good enough.

First classAs for my plane ride? Shortly after take-off, a flight attendant offered heated, moist hand towels to freshen up before dinner, followed by a small china cup of warmed cashews/almonds/pecans. A gourmet dinner tray held more than I could eat, and I appreciated the linen napkin with embroidered buttonhole to attach like a classy bib. If I’d asked for a box of Godivas, they probably would have produced it.

Airline pretzelsThe bottom line, though, was that if I’d been sitting in the cramped back row with a tiny pretzel bag, I’d have made it to Chicago just fine.

 

“You know the grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, that though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you by his poverty might become rich.” (2 Corinthians 8:9)

Not Quite

Clear glassI absolutely love clear, chunky glass. It doesn’t much matter what shape it’s in, whether a figurine, a bowl, or just a blob, but the thicker the better. Imperfections or bubbles in the glass make it all the more interesting, and looking through a piece of it is something I often stop to do.

Ice does the same thing for me. The other day I was dropping some cubes into my tea and said, “Look, girls! This ice is almost completely clear!”

As I studied the beauty of each piece stacked in my glass, the girls were unimpressed. “Mom,” Louisa said, “it’s just ice, and it’s cold whether it’s clear or not.” She didn’t get it.

There’s one chronic problem with lovers of clear glass, though. We can hold it, gaze into it, and look through it, but we can’t get into it. Laugh if you must, but to be fully satisfied, that’s really what we want to do. There’s a whole world inside a chunk of glass.

Ice castleI remember a special moment on a family vacation to the wintery Northwoods of Wisconsin one January. We visited the resort town of Eagle River and found a spectacular castle built with blocks of ice. Although it was dark outside, the castle was lit from inside, and some of the ice was clear and gasp-worthy.

Appreciation for the iceThat evening, while I reveled in the thick ice, our children, ages 16 to 20 months at the time, were enjoying the display, though not nearly as much as I was. Then I saw 7-year-old Hans put both hands on an ice block and press his nose in close. I came up behind him and said, “Isn’t it fabulous?”

“I see stuff in there, Mom,” he said.

Maybe what he really meant was, “I’d like to get in there and see it firsthand!” If that was it, for those few seconds he and I were on the same wavelength.

But as we walked away from the castle, I experienced the same incomplete feeling I always get when studying clear ice or glass. It’s a “not quite” sensation, something similar to our soul-feelings when we can’t quite see God or experience his physical presence. There are times when we have such an intense longing we can hardly stand it, but in this life our experience of him will always fall short of being deeply satisfying.

Thankfully his plans for our future include the one-on-one, visible relationship our hearts crave. The “not quite” will turn into “complete”. I’ve heard it theorized that hell might be the absence of God’s presence, meaning that the human heart’s longing for him will never be satisfied. And I can’t imagine any greater loss.

ChunkyAlthough my love of clear glass can’t compare to my love for the Lord, in the back of my mind I have a feeling he’ll take away that less important “not quite” too, and turn it into something wonderfully complete.

“All my longings lie open before you, Lord; my sighing is not hidden from you.” (Psalm 38:9)

Greeting Card Guidance

God is an undisputed pro at surprises. This morning during my prayer time, I spent 20 minutes going round and round with him about a problem I’m having. I needed his solution, and as I prayed, I listened for his answers to my questions. As Henry Blackaby says, as soon as we pray out a request, we should pay close attention to what happens next. Those circumstances may contain God’s answers.

As I left that topic and began praying for others, the edge of my mind continued to listen for the Lord. I had asked, “What should I think? What should I do?” And I knew he’d let me know.

Half an hour later, still praying, I jotted down several “solutions” that had come to mind, figuring they were probably from God. Most involved two things: (1) how I could justify my own position, and (2) how I could superimpose that over another person’s opinion.

Toward the end of my prayer time, I usually close my eyes and pull a “random” (i.e. Spirit-selected) greeting card from a box I keep under my bed, so I can pray for the person who sent it. Right now the box contains Christmas cards from 2011, but the dates don’t really matter, just the people.

Greetings from StellaAs I opened today’s card, the signature made me smile. It was from one of Mom’s good friends, Stella Eklund, and in the time since Stella had sent her card, she’d left Chicago and gone to heaven. I smiled because I knew how eagerly she had looked forward to that relocation day.

So I didn’t pray for Stella today. She’s leading a life of complete fulfillment and exuberant joy with a decided absence of prayer requests. Besides, if she has anything to say to the Lord, she can talk to him directly.

But that didn’t mean God wasn’t planning to use Stella’s card in another way. While I was still holding it, I thought about her sparkling optimism and her quick sense of humor. But most of all I thought about how Stella radiated grace toward others. Without a trace of judgment in her twinkling eyes or her tone of voice, she always looked for the good in people and focused every conversation on them rather than herself.

Right then I realized God was answering my earlier questions, and he did it very creatively with a Stella-prompt:

“Handle it like she would have,” he said. “Give grace. More than you have been. And for goodness sake, get your eyes off yourself.”

A Spirit-pulled cardThrough seeing this lovely lady’s signature, which caused me to remember what she was like, God answered my prayers. He showed me how I’d been part of the problem rather than The Great Problem Solver I’d envisioned myself to be. I understood, and accepted his loving (and well-deserved) reprimand.

And then I threw away my self-centered list of “solutions”.

“In the end, serious reprimand is appreciated far more than bootlicking flattery.” (Proverbs 28:23 The Message)