Category Archives: Submitting to God

Father Knows Best

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God is full of surprises. He doesn’t think like we do, plan like we do or respond to circumstances like we do. He has no limitations and never runs out of ideas. He never has to “rack his brain” or wonder, “What should I do?”

That’s because he’s God, in the top slot, in all categories. So it makes perfect sense, since we’re not at the top, that we don’t understand why things happen to us. With our limited point of view, we reason that if God is in control and this awful thing has happened, why didn’t he stop it?

Growing up in the 1950’s, my family didn’t watch much TV. Television was new, and there wasn’t a whole lot to look at. By 10:30 PM, the national anthem was played, and all programming ceased until morning. One show we did find to watch, though, was “Father Knows Best.”

Mary and I have sweet memories of our relationship with the Andersons, a family much like ours with two girls, one boy, a home in the suburbs and a daddy who walked in each evening wearing a hat and carrying a newspaper. Tonight we watched one of those black and white episodes from 1958. Just hearing the theme music was a thrill, and seeing our old “friends” again was a pleasure.

In tonight’s story, the father, Jim, finds himself facing Saint Peter at heaven’s pearly gates. Peter is assessing whether or not Jim ought to “get in.” When he questions him about a decision he made, Jim says, “That was an especially difficult one.”

Peter says, “Naturally it was difficult. It’s part of our master plan. We do that purposefully. We keep throwing difficult choices in your path to test you. It’s the decisions you make that shape you into what you are.”

Without realizing it, this script line had made a scriptural point. And because of God’s perfect analysis of every person and what each needs, we can believe there are exceedingly important reasons for the “difficult choices” that are “thrown” at us.

As autumn approaches, my mind back-steps to a year ago. On this date, though we knew nothing of Nate’s cancer, we were within three weeks of finding out, within nine weeks of his death. But God had already decided on the test, had put the details in place and was about to light the circumstantial fuse. The difficult choices Saint Peter mentioned were barreling toward our family.

Every day for 42 days Nate woke to new tests buried within the big cancer-test, and so did the rest of us. His trials were excruciating, both physically and emotionally, but ours also involved pain, and still do. Television-Peter was quoting the biblical-James when he said, “It’s the decisions you make that shape you into what you are.”

While we knit our brows and wrestle with the tough ones, there is a choice we can make up front that’ll facilitate all the rest: to choose to believe each test does come from an all-wise God.

Of course that means even if we don’t like our tests, we must trust that our heavenly Father really does know best.

“Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love him.” (James 1:12)

You just never know…

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Mom was born in 1912. Arriving several weeks prematurely, she was the fourth baby in her family. Because she was tiny, the doctor told her parents, “Don’t give her a name. She’s not going to make it, so you don’t want to get too attached.”

But Mom fooled everybody; she lived to be 92. You just never know…

Our firstborn nearly died at nine months with a case of croup we thought was just laryngitis. When he couldn’t sleep for all the coughing, we called the doctor, who sent us to the hospital. En route, the baby went limp, his eyes rolled back, and we were terrified.

Thanks to quick, discerning doctors, he lived, and after four days in the hospital, he slowly recuperated. When it was all over, Nate and I fell apart, realizing how close we’d come to losing our little guy. You just never know…

Fast forward to last year, when Nate and I relocated to Michigan. His plan had been to work full time until 2011, then subtract one work day each week for the next five years. But “untimely” cancer arrived, and 42 days later, our plans were shelved. Nate had died “ahead of schedule” at 64. We hadn’t planned on that, but you just never know…

None of us ever knows. The biblical character Methuselah lived to be 969 years old, but then King David’s new baby died.  Not one day is guaranteed to any of us. When we were born, God didn’t promise old age. Yet we find ourselves angry when someone is taken “before their time.” If they’ve died, though, it was their time. We just can’t know, because God doesn’t tell.

The Bible describes long life as a blessing, and everyone seems to want it. God sometimes rewarded righteous behavior by extending a life. Today, for those who passionately want to increase their time on earth, Scripture gives the how-to: obey everything God says.

At least five times the Lord plainly advises that keeping all his commands, decrees and statutes, and living by his wisdom, will lengthen life. We can’t know from what original end-date he’s computing that, but if we believe the Bible, obedience definitely brings additional time.

Mom was thankful for her long life and lived each day vigorously. But in her last years she often said, “Old age isn’t for sissies.” Troubles of all kinds pile high on the elderly, weighing them down with woe, and she was no exception. Maybe that’s why the genuinely righteous are the only ones who get their death-dates bumped; God knows that in order to handle those burdensome days, great stores of wisdom and godliness are a prerequisite. When we seek longevity, we’re signing up for the toughest challenge of our lives.

You just never know…    But then maybe it’s better that way.

”No man has power over the wind to contain it; so no one has power over the day of his death.” (Ecclesiastes 8:8)

Learning the Lingo

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Before I became a widow, I heard from many friends about the nightmare of paperwork that follows a spouse’s death. Some wives have been privy to this part of the marriage all along, naturally skilled to understand it. Most, however, are like me with talents in other areas. “He always took care of that department,” they say. Sadly, that translates to hours and hours of climbing a steep learning curve once their men are gone. And that’s me.

Today I told Louisa, “I have four mountains to climb,” meaning four online, data-related jobs to accomplish in partnership with the World Wide Web. The thought paralyzes me. I’ve figured out how to post blogs, but beyond that I’m in a foreign land without an interpreter.

Back when computers were new, when Nate and I were both green at emailing, we’d practice on each other. He’d send me quick one-line messages from the office, bringing me up to date on who he’d seen or what he’d learned that I might have found interesting. I’d do the same from home.

If he got an email from one of our kids, he’d forward it to me and preface it with a line or two: “From San Diego at noon. Lars is a good boy.” The email might have been a simple thank you from an adult child to a dad. Used like this, computers became our friends.

Since Nate died, however, my computer and I have entered a love-hate relationship. I love keeping up with our former world in the Chicago area, setting up visiting dates, reading blog comments and receiving prayer requests and answers. But oh the effort to get along with institutions: insurance companies, medical offices, government agencies, universities.

Although 800-numbers are tricky to find on web pages these days, when I finally do reach a human, the song and dance is always the same: “It’s easy! Just right-click on this, left-click on that, hover-over-this-other and voila! Done!”

Maybe for you.

My computer refuses to speak my click-language.

So much of success is in learning the right lingo. That’s true in my relationship with computers and also with God. When I talk to him, am I speaking his language? If I say, I don’t need you; you’re old-fashioned; you might be wrong; I control my own destiny, nothing good will come from those words. It’s like right-clicking when it should be left.

The key to being heard by the Almighty is to use the correct language. I’m sorry; please forgive me; I love you; come into my life; I want to obey you. When we click on the right web page instructions, good things happen. When we approach the Lord in the right way, the heavens will open.

I’m still learning God’s lingo, and he remains willing to teach me. I hope with practice, I’ll improve at communicating with him. I do know I’ll never give up trying.

Something else I won’t give up on is trying to learn the language of computers. Maybe I can find a Geek Squad willing to rent my empty bedroom.

“May the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be pleasing in your sight, O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer.” (Psalm 19:14)