Category Archives: Submitting to God

Go get ’em!

Posted on by

This morning Nelson and I performed surgery in the dining room. It qualified as an ordeal, and both of us are glad it’s over.

Since we live in the woods, bugs and beetles are a part of everyday life, but normally I don’t think of them as creepy. There is one that does qualify, however: the tick. And our woods are full of them.

Ticks can lie on a bush-branch for months without moving, but just let a warm body brush past, and zip! They hop right on. Since they’re not much bigger than a pinhead when they make the leap, they seem harmless. But once on board, their powerful pincher digs in and holds on, allowing them to suck blood much like a mosquito.

Over a period of days the tick grows and can quickly reach jelly-bean size. Today we thwarted a tick’s plan to stay fat, dumb, and happy on our Jack when we gingerly removed it from from his neck.

As Nelson cautiously grabbed hold of the disgusting bug, he was careful to pull slowly. A quick tug could leave the sucking head behind to do further damage. As he worked to firmly ease it out, Jack tried to get away. “Do you think I’m hurting him?” he said.

“I don’t think so. Just keep going.” But our normally patient dog continued to fidget. The tick held on with strength, and we had to give Jack several breaks during the long process.

When Nelson finally succeeded, he put the extracted tick on a paper towel to check for the head, and we saw that its pincher was tightly closed around a chunk of Jack’s skin. (No wonder he’d been squirming!) Nelson had done a stellar job, though, and the head was still attached.

Our next problem was what to do with it. Ticks are rubbery. If struck with a hammer or ground beneath a rock, they’ll walk away unfazed, and we didn’t want it to have a second chance at Jack.

Suddenly Nelson said, “Boy, ticks are just like sin.”

In a flash we were rabbit-trailing about Satan and his desire to attach sin to our lives much like a tick. Any warm body will do, and once it arrives, immediately it takes hold. It’s influence is tiny and even imperceptible at first but steadily grows until one day it dominates us. If left untended, it can suck the life right out of us, especially our spiritual lives.

Nelson and I agreed the best way to terminate Jack’s tick would be to burn it. He wrapped it in the paper towel, took it outside, and lit the whole thing on fire. Though we heard the tick sizzling, after the paper had burned to ash, there it was, still intact. It took a direct, prolonged flame at close range to do him in.

It’s the same with sin. Once we identify it in our lives, the only way to get rid of it is to take extreme measures, doing whatever’s necessary to kill it. That might mean switching jobs, moving, changing schools, trashing a computer. But if we’re willing to get tough, God is willing to pluck sin from our lives.

“I chased my enemies and caught them; I did not stop until they were conquered.” (Psalm 18:37)

Pick-up sticks

Posted on by

Some people think God gets pleasure out of manipulating us, as if we were the sticks in a pick-up game: flick one here, put pressure on another there, and roll someone else away. But that’s a skewed analysis. Of course he could use his power that way if he wanted to, but the Almighty only maneuvers people around if the end result will be their betterment.

As I walk the dog on our route to the beach, one long stretch of road is bordered by forest on both sides, with beautiful views every-which-way. The pavement was laid half way up a giant dune, which leaves a descending valley on one side and an ascending hill on the other.

If a tree goes down in a wind storm, residents prefer to let it be, allowing the natural process of forestation to take over. So after a wild winter, the valley might resemble a game of pick-up sticks being played by a couple of massive storybook giants.

Sixty-foot long trunks lie in a jumble, giving the impression they were tossed there by the hand of God. We look at the disorder and think, “If we could get a crane down there to line up the trunks, and a saw to chop them into 24” lengths, we could stack them in cords and neaten up the valley.”

We’re tempted to think this way about the fall-out from storms in our lives, too. When bad news comes (as it eventually does to us all), life feels as chaotic as the forest floor looks. We think, “God is manipulating me and my life, and now I’m in a mess with huge problems. If only he would straighten it all out… and do it now!”

But maybe we can take a lesson from the forest. After trees have been thrown down by severe winds, their trunks settle on top of each other in pick-up-stick disarray, with no power to change their positions. But as they’re left alone, forest plants begin to slowly grow over them, attractive ground covers like ivy, myrtle, and pachysandra.

The mix of plants, bark, wood, and dirt gradually morphs into rich topsoil to nourish the plants, and when next year’s spring arrives, fallen tree trunks will be dotted with wildflowers. Although the start-to-finish process takes time and begins with the chaos of trees crashing down, the end result is peaceful beauty.

In the same way, if we trust God to work with us through our illnesses, accidents, break-ups, and other problems, when we come to the end of them, he’ll reveal some special gifts we couldn’t have come into any other way.

At the conclusion of a game of pick-up sticks, all we have is one winner. But at the end of our trials, if we stick with the Lord, he is sure to do something spectacular for not just one of us but for every one of us.

“God blesses those who patiently endure testing and temptation. Afterward they will receive…” (James 1:12)

Misinformed

Posted on by

Although I’m not much of a traveler, I’m beginning to learn the ins and outs of Southwest Airlines. Unlike American, United, and others, Southwest has “open seating,” which means no one can choose their spot ahead of time. As ticket holders receive their boarding passes, they check for an important letter:     A, B, or C.

If it’s A, lucky you.

You get to board first and pick any seat you want. The C people are the unluckys, having to squeeze into leftover spots here and there between passengers who were hoping you’d sit somewhere else.

I’ve always viewed the A group with boarding-pass envy, wondering why I inevitably rated a C. Finally I asked an A how she did it. It turned out “good grades” were the prize for winning a cyberspace game: be the first to check-in online.

For my next flight, I entered the competition for an A slot. Each of 3 attempts flashed the “Oops!” screen, but once the computer clock moved into that golden 24 hour zone just before my flight’s departure, the check-in click worked. And when my boarding pass emerged from the printer, it had a big A on it!

What a satisfying feeling to finally be part of the privileged pick-your-seat A-people. As I waited in the A-wave of passengers, I tried not to look over at those holding B and C boarding passes, knowing they were eying me with envy. How lovely to be holding an A.

Scripture isn’t big on A-passes and actually promotes the C’s. One day Jesus’ disciples were mourning all they’d given up to follow him when he assured them brighter days were coming. Future first/last places would have nothing to do with earthly firsts/lasts but would be just the opposite. He told them, “Being in the C group now is setting yourself up to one day be in the A’s.”

This was hard to believe, and Jesus knew it. He told them several stories to push his point, and today we can do whatever we want with those. He knew putting ourselves last would go against our natural egotism but continued to insist that being last was the only sure way to get ahead.

As I surrendered my A-pass and boarded the plane, I surveyed scores of empty seats, choosing a window spot in the second row. “First on, first off,” I thought with smug satisfaction. “And a wall to lean on for a nap.”

Gradually the plane filled as flight attendants announced it would be a full aircraft. And wouldn’t you know, the last C boarding pass belonged to the biggest passenger. I don’t have to tell you which seat (and a half) he wedged himself into. As nearby A-people sent sympathetic glances my way, I learned that even an A-level boarding pass can lead to a C-quality seat.

“Jesus said to them, “If anyone would be first, he must be last of all.” (Mark 9:35)