Is ignorance bliss?

Last night I wrote a blog about “staying green” through life’s changes, even into old age, being mindful that God wants us to “bear fruit” no matter how old we grow.

Green leaves

In hunting online for an illustrative photo of green leaves, I found a pretty one that struck my fancy and used it in the blog. Although quite a few comments were left, no one caught the fact that the picture I posted happened to be marijuana leaves.

I didn’t realize that, but it turns out the younger generation caught it (my kids) and asked if I was trying to send a secret message through my choice. After all, of the thousands of green-leaf-photos that popped up on Google, that was the one I picked.

Although medical marijuana is legal in Michigan, I can honestly say I’ve never tried it, not for medicinal purposes or any other. As for recognizing its leaves, I haven’t been to a marijuana farm, and didn’t know what the plants looked like. Ignorance ruled.

When I think of my limited knowledge of marijuana plants, I’m aware that there are more things in this world that I don’t know than I do. Among those topics are God the Father, Son, and Spirit. I may know some things about them, but these three Beings are so complicated and have such depth to them that what I do know is barely bare-minimum.

The Bible tells of a remarkable example of ignorance within an unusually godly man who thought he was knowledgeable about the Almighty. It was Job. He didn’t understand why God had allowed his successful life to take a sudden turn for the worse and had some questions for him. Since God had referred to him as “blameless,” maybe Job figured it would be ok to ask.

But the Lord stopped him cold: “Who is questioning my wisdom with such ignorance?”

Ignorance

Job answered, “It is I — and I was talking about things I knew nothing about, things far too wonderful for me.” (Job 42:3)

(I can relate.)

God follows that with a heated lecture detailing some of the unfathomable things he can do that Job not only can’t do but can’t even understand. And as we read through that long list, we nod in agreement with God. The Father, Son, and Spirit (and their ways) are, as Job says, “too wonderful” for us to understand. Next to them, we’re ignorant.

Yet despite that, the Trinity has chosen to share some of themselves with us, making a special effort to explain the intense love they feel for us. I may be ignorant, but “love” I understand. I also comprehend that this love makes all the difference in the world, both in this world and the next.

And ignorant or not, I know one thing: bliss is coming.

“No one knows the Son except the Father, and no one knows the Father except the Son and those to whom the Son chooses to reveal him.” (Matthew 11:27)

 

Out with the Old

Out with the oldLife is full of new beginnings, which usually means the ending of something else. This week baby Emerald ended her night-time partnership with a bassinet and began sleeping in a larger bed.

 

In with the newBirgitta chose a Pack ‘n Play over a traditional crib for now, and Emerald is appreciating its soft sides. The first night in her new bed we heard her fingers scraping at the netting, exploring her new surroundings with curiosity.

Babies probably experience more endings/beginnings in the first year of their lives than they will in any other year, and they usually do it with eagerness. It seems as soon as Emerald gets used to something (like her Bumbo seat), she’s nearly done with it. This week she’s practicing sitting on her own and when placed in the Bumbo squirms left and right to get out of it.

Bumbo baby

But babies aren’t the only ones coping with continual change. The rest of us are there, too, not always as quick to flex as the little ones. When we age, we seem to love non-change more and more, or maybe it’s just me. I think it’s generally difficult to make frequent adjustments to “the way it is,” once we’re in the autumn of our lives.

But I’ve been watching other people in my age bracket and beyond, looking to see if any of them exhibit flexibility and a willingness to embrace change. Amazingly, a few do it with ease, even with flair, all the way through their 80’s and 90’s. How do they do that?

Scripture insists we can stay “fresh and green” until the end of our lives (Psalm 92:14), remaining productive for God, others, and ourselves. In looking at that Psalm, I learned exactly how this can be done:

  • By acting righteously
  • By willingly planting ourselves in the house of the Lord
  • By testifying to God’s righteousness

Green leaves

I found the same thing in one of the Proverbs: The righteous will thrive like a green leaf.” (11:28)

Such a promise then begs the question, so how do we get righteous? Psalm 1 lets us know: we’re to take delight in God’s law, thinking about it during the day and also during the night. If we do that, it says, everything else we do will prosper.

Everything!

Lotsa fruit

That’s quite a promise. And along that same vein, Jeremiah tells us that if we put our confidence in God and trust him no matter how disastrous our circumstances, we’ll always be like a well-rooted tree whose leaves are continually green, “never failing to bear fruit.” (17:7-8)

Never!

And if all that is true, old age can be all kinds of fun! Embracing new beginnings without stressing over old endings will be as easy as….

….well, as easy as it is for little Emerald.

“The righteous… will still bear fruit in old age; they will stay fresh and green.” (Psalm 92:14)

Illuminating Gifts

We own a spectacular flashlight that came to us in an unusual way. It’s made of aerospace-grade materials and is impact and water-resistant. Should it be dropped, it has a spongy, rubberized sheath around the vulnerable bulb-end, and it’s a foot long. The words “Coleman Graphite” are printed along the side.

Super-flashlight

If I was forced to look at the powerful bulb, my eyes would hurt for days, but the generous swath of light it puts forth is almost like a car’s headlights on high beam. I’ve checked online, and an equivalent flashlight would cost about $50, a far cry from the dime-store variety of our other flashlights.

Back in 2005, when Nate and I put our suburban home on the market after living there nearly 30 years, we never dreamed it would take 4 years to sell it, especially since the real estate market was still on a rapidly-rising bubble.

When we finally got the offer that “stuck,” our potential buyers asked for an asbestos inspection, and wouldn’t you know, the attic insulation contained microscopic bits of it. The buyers insisted we have it cleaned out, and after the 3-day process I climbed a ladder to peek at how the attic looked. Without insulation (and with a new white sealant on walls and floor joists), it looked pretty good.

As I stood on the ladder half-in and half-out of the attic, I noticed a big flashlight across the room. Climbing through the opening and crawling over the joists to retrieve it, I saw what good quality it was and figured it belonged to the asbestos team. Later I called them.

“No,” they said, “it isn’t ours.” I pressed the point, so one of the workers came by to look at it, but he was sure it wasn’t theirs. After that we asked people who came and went, but when we finally moved, we figured it was ours.

Coming into a high-quality flashlight isn’t any big deal, but the unexplainable way it came to us can be an object lesson for the way God does things. For example, maybe we need something specific or even just have a wish for it. We tell God about it in prayer, and one day, after we’ve forgotten we asked, there it is.

When God gives us the desire of our hearts (an un-sinful desire), he often brings it by a circuitous, improbable route. Why? Because he wants us to recognize that it’s him. If the way the gift arrived makes no logical sense and occurs against the odds, then I think we can rightly credit the Lord.

So, when I use our Coleman flashlight, it’s not the asbestos company that comes to mind. It’s God, and his sometimes unusual, often unexpected, but always welcome gifts.

“If you only look at us, you might well miss the brightness. We carry this precious Message around in the unadorned clay pots of our ordinary lives. That’s to prevent anyone from confusing God’s incomparable power with us.” (2 Corinthians 4:7)