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)

Growing Pains

Posted on April 13, 2015 by Margaret

Every season has its beauties, but spring might just be the most eagerly anticipated of them all. Here in southwest Michigan we’ve had an exceptionally frosty winter but finally are noticing bits of neighborhood greenery…. with great joy.

Last fall our friend Teddy planted dozens of hosta plants in my small yard, plants that were given to us by a generous friend. All winter I thought of those gnarly-looking roots buried beneath frozen dirt with a couple of feet of snow on top of them. Would they make it through? Would we see them again when spring finally arrived?

And now spring is here.

It was two weeks ago that I first began noticing other people’s perennials surfacing, but ours were still a no-show. I wondered if the transplant last October might have been too much for them. Or had they sat in my buckets too long between being uprooted and put under again?

I gently raked around the spots where the root balls had been planted, clearing away stray ivy vines, acorns, and stones along the way. I didn’t want anything to hinder their appearance. Still, two weeks after seeing other gardens take on a green glow, our hostas were MIA. I continued to check on them with hope.

Though I don’t have a very green thumb, I think that springtime anticipation of new growth is part of what draws people back to all the hard labor gardening requires, year after year. Is it possible that’s the way we ought to think about spiritual growth, too? Shouldn’t we have the same eager expectation?

Sometimes I’m not sure we even want spiritual growth. Once we learn that becoming more Christ-like usually comes wrapped in difficulties, asking for it is tantamount to asking for trouble. Like a new gardener hoping for a showcase yard without too much planting, weeding, and watering, we’d rather become spiritually mature without all the trials and tribulations.

But regardless, whether we’re feeling up for another growth spurt or comfortable where we are, asking God to take us further with him will always be a valuable prayer. And he’ll always answer it with a yes.

Sure, it will most likely be a laborious process just as yard work is difficult, but the satisfaction we experience when our perennials peek through the dirt can’t compare to an increased understanding of God and his ways.

As for my hostas, yesterday I checked one more time, and lo and behold, I found several tiny green points reaching for the sun. I was so happy, I let out a whoop that even startled Jack. May I be even more excited than that to see the tiniest sign of growth in Christ…. in my life.

“Let us leave the elementary doctrine of Christ and go on to maturity.” (Hebrews 6:1)

Don’t wait.

Posted on March 24, 2015 by Margaret

Dad always used to say, ”If a blizzard comes in December, January, or February, shovel it up quickly. Otherwise you could be slipping and sliding on it until March. But if a blizzard comes in March, don’t worry about it. It’ll melt away on its own.”

Yesterday we had a blizzard in my neighborhood. It was two days after the start of spring, and thinking of Dad’s words, I didn’t even get my shovel out of the shed. But I probably should have looked at my iPhone’s weather app.

Last night we went down to 15 degrees, and this morning our 5″ of snow was crunchy, slippery, and very difficult to walk on with hard ice underneath. As Birgitta struggled up the front walk carrying Emerald today, I felt bad that I hadn’t shoveled.

Dad’s rule has proven true over the years, maybe 95% of the time. But this blizzard was an exception. And it reminded me of times in my history when I’ve had a crispy cold heart toward certain situations or, in some cases, toward certain people.

It’s always best to “shovel away” accumulated “ice” by dealing with it sooner rather than later. If our frigid attitude is toward a set of circumstances, we should promptly make an analysis: if there’s something we can do to warm things up, we should; if not, we ought to hand it over to God so he can do it.

If it’s a relationship that’s become icy, we ought to look seriously for the reason(s) and act quickly to sort it out, particularly if it’s inside of a marriage. Relationship problems never “melt away on their own.”

And if we find ourselves cooling toward the Lord, we ought to get out the proverbial space heaters. Letting ourselves drift into a spiritual deep freeze can lead to a frosty relationship with the one who has offered to keep us warm from the inside out. And if shoveling away the relationship snow seem too daunting a task, we can remind ourselves it’ll never be any easier than it is “today.”

As for my crusty front sidewalk, the weather app tells me it’ll hit 52 degrees tomorrow and that a spring rain will wash away all the ice and snow. So in terms of blizzards, I guess Dad was right again.