Category Archives: Life’s disappointments

Displaced

Posted on by

Birgitta and I have moved. Not permanently, just for a few days. The wood floor in our cottage is getting a new lease on its 73 year old life, and today is the first of several “poly days” when polyurethane will perfume the house. Sticky floors will dry by next week.

Having to leave home is an inconvenience for us, but it brought to mind the thousands who live in refugee camps around the world, routed out of their homes amidst traumatic circumstances.

Birgitta and I had planned ahead, making lists beforehand and packing what we wanted; refugees often leave on the run, taking only what they can carry. We left for the happy reason of home improvement; they leave to escape war or, worse yet, to preserve their lives. We’ll be home in just a few days; refugees may be displaced for months, maybe years. Some never return home.

When the biblical Abraham was told to leave home, it fell somewhere between inconvenient and awful. He wasn’t a refugee but wasn’t given a return date either. And he wasn’t given a destination. Instead he was told, “Pick up and go.” But because it was the voice of God directing him, he did it.

After that, Abraham lived as a nomadic tent-dweller, roaming desert terrain with his household and possessions, believing there was “milk and honey” at the end of the journey. He didn’t know all that we know today, that many generations would come and go before God completed his promise. In the mean time, Abraham was often sent packing.

Recent news stories have shown thousands leaving their homes to escape natural disasters and then returning to find no home at all. And of course lean financial times have displaced many others who’ve been forced out of homes they love. Dorothy of Oz fame put it well. “There’s no place like home.”

So many stories of dislocation make me wonder what God is up to.

We’ve all heard the expression, “Home is where the heart is.” Could it be that’s what God is trying to show us? Maybe home isn’t about wood floors, mud huts, mansions or igloos but about who’s inside them. If so, then losing our address might not be as traumatic as we think. As long as we hold onto those we love, anyplace can become a home.

And God is hoping to be on that list of the ones we love best. As a matter of fact, he wants to be the heart of our homes, wherever we are. When he is, he assures us we’ll always have a home, not just in the distant someday but in the now. When we get displaced, he goes along. Though we lose our houses, we don’t lose him. If we must pitch a tent, he’s inside of it with us.

And maybe it’s those times when we’ve been forced out of our brick-and-mortar homes that we suddenly feel most at home with him.

“Lord, through all the generations you have been our home!” (Psalm 90:1)

From better to worse?

Posted on by

My Michigan cottage has been undergoing a partial face lift recently, with disarray ongoing for 5 weeks now. Those of us who lean toward a disorganized mindset even when our surroundings are in order know that serious thinking becomes difficult if life’s backdrop is in shambles. But as is true of many of life’s improvements, things often get worse before they get better.

I remember that same phenomenon with some of our teens in their battles with acne. Although they’d leave the dermatologist’s office with a fistful of promising prescriptions, their faces always got worse before they got better.

In a less visible way, worst-first is also true in relationship counseling. During the early weeks, complaints and criticisms rise to the surface like cream from warm cow’s milk. But with time, the “better” begins to happen.

This worse-before-better phenomenon is unfolding on a massive scale all around us in our world. More wars, more natural disasters, more fractured families, more violent deaths. Might this mean things are on their way to getting better?

Only if God steps in.

Scripture describes our global situation to-a-T:

“When you hear of wars and rumors of wars, do not be alarmed. Nation will rise against nation, and kingdom against kingdom. There will be earthquakes in various places, and famines. Brother will betray brother to death, and a father his child. Children will rebel against their parents. Such things must happen.” (Mark 13)

But why?

Because the devil is wreaking havoc among us. He couldn’t convince Jesus to commit even one tiny little sin in 33 years of trying, and he failed to dissuade him from enduring torture and death for our salvation. His time to work on Jesus has ended, but this wicked being still has the power to ruin lives through disease, abuse, poverty and countless other evils. He’s also able to tempt all of us relentlessly, and he works on it night and day.

Satan thrills to the possibility of keeping souls separated from God the Father, both in this life and the next. His greatest joy is to take people to permanent destruction, but we know God has the final say and will eventually come out on top. If we follow him, we’ll be on the victorious team.

Sometimes I wonder why the Lord doesn’t just end it all today. How bad will it have to get? He’s coming back to settle the score eventually and strip the devil of his power, so why is he waiting? Most likely it’s to allow as many as possible to believe in him and accept the salvation he offers. His desire is to see every soul come to him.

God knows that the upheaval and chaos around us is disturbing, but he urges us not to panic, reminding us that this “worse” will lead to the best “better” there ever was!

”Yet a little while, and he that shall come will come, and will not tarry.” (Hebrews 10:37)

Late for Church

Posted on by

I woke this morning to my mother, whom we fondly call Midge, knocking on my bedroom door.

“Birgitta, are you up yet?”

I rolled over sleepily, wondering how it could possibly be morning already. She kept knocking.

“Church starts at 10:30. We need to leave here by 10:20!”

I glanced at the clock: 9:45. Unable to speak this early, I dragged myself out of bed in annoyance, wondering why she continued to pound on the door instead of just opening it as she usually does when I’m at the cottage, where my alarm is somehow much less effective.

I yanked the door open to let her know I was awake, remembering that I’d locked it the night before to prevent Jack the dog from bashing his head against it in order to open it so he could come and go as he pleased.

Midge, already in her Sunday best, left my doorway upon seeing me vertical. I turned on some music to get ready, as I do every morning, and hurriedly rummaged through my messy pile of clothing, quickly selecting a dress to wear. After showering, I headed back to my room to find I couldn’t get the door open. Locked. Quickly noticing my dilemma, Midge looked up from the book she had been reading in her La-Z-Boy.

“Uh oh,” she said as she got up to offer assistance.

“How is this possible?” I said angrily as I jostled the doorknob. “I didn’t lock it!”

“That’s strange,” Midge replied. “Maybe we can get it open with a screwdriver.” She disappeared into her room and quickly returned with an array of sizes. We each repeatedly attempted to unscrew the lock, but the door wouldn’t budge. “Maybe we need to pound the lock in from the outside,” Midge suggested. “I have just the thing!” She pranced downstairs and came back with a tool from the basement. Again we both banged against the lock, even using a hammer, but it was all to no avail.

“What am I gonna do?” I whined. “I can’t go to church like this!” Remaining calm, Midge thought for a moment.

“I know,” she said. “I’ll go out on the roof and get in through the window.”

“What?!” I squawked, envisioning Midge slipping down the steep slant of the roof to the concrete 20 feet below. “No, Midge. If anything, I should go out there. Not you!” But she insisted.

“No, no, no, honey, I wouldn’t want you to fall. I can do this.” And with that she slipped off her shoes, hopped up on a chair, and began climbing out her bedroom window onto the roof.

“Midge!” I yelped as I stuck my head out the window behind her. “You should not do this!” But she had already scaled the slippery slope like a pro and was standing in front of the window to my bedroom, devising a way to remove the screen from the outside. “Oh gosh,” I muttered as I clutched my phone, ready to call 9-1-1 in case she should fall.

“I just need a little screwdriver to get this screen off!” She yelled back to me. “My dresser, top drawer!” I ran to her dresser for the screwdriver, wondering who I should call second, after 9-1-1.

“Here!” I shouted as I leaned out the window to hand it to her.

“Perfect,” she replied, taking the screwdriver, not the least bit worried. I watched in amazement as she popped off the screen within seconds and leapt through the window.

“Thank you, Midge,” I said gratefully after she had unlocked the door and I had reentered my bedroom. I resumed getting ready, realizing that after almost 21 years as her daughter, I never knew what a risk taker Midge was!

*     *     *     *     *     *     *     *

Birgitta’s narration of our morning reminds me of John Lennon’s line, “Life is what happens while you are busy making other plans.” This morning’s lock-out made us very late for church (we actually missed the whole service), and similar sidebars happen daily to each of us.

But we have an excellent model of how to respond. Jesus’ ministry was one interruption after another, yet he always acted with grace, seamlessly weaving each unplanned set of circumstances into his rearranged day. He paid attention to the moment and turned each disturbance into an opportunity to do good.

May we do as well.

“All of us who look forward to his coming stay ready, with the glistening purity of Jesus’ life as a model for our own.” (1 John 3:2)