I have been haunted by a question, a possibility, an insight over the past few weeks. It was something Jefferson Bethke wrote in a book I received this past Christmas, Jesus >Religion: Why He Is So Much Better Than Trying Harder, ding More, and Being Good Enough (Nelson Books, c. 2013). In a section entitled “Not Your Mom’s Jesus” Bethke noted that when he was in Sunday School and attending Christian summer camps the counselors often tried to encourage the campers with two well known Scripture verses. The first was Isaiah 40:31—“Those who wait for the LORD will renew their strength; they shall mount of with wings like eagles.” It is an inspiring verse. It is the basis of a beloved hymn often sung, in my experience, at funerals. I once used it in a prayer when I briefly coached a soccer team at a small midwestern college. They played their best game of the season but still got killed! If you do a Google search of Isaiah 40:31 you will find you can buy it engraved on rings and bracelets, printed on tee shirts and embossed on coffee cups. All very nice, I’m sure, though a few seemed to be a bit gaudy for my tastes.
The other verse was a personal favorite, Jeremiah 29:11: “For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.” This passage has comforted myself and others during times of challenge and hardship. I even wrote it on notes to people when I didn’t know what else to say but wanted to express my sympathy or support.
Bethke turned this “personal comfort” on its head when he asked a very simple but profound question. What if iGod’s plans for me are not the same as my plans for me! Ouch! Check please!
Every since I read that I’ve been haunted by how I have attempted to “get” God’s blessings on my plans and my agenda while never once considering the possibility that those very plans may, in fact, be contrary to God’s plans for me. Believe me, this is a troubling thought! This very real possibility has caused me to reconsider many of my preconceived notions. It has shed a new light on my worldview.
Although—as I have often said to others, given my age—I have more of a history than a future, it’s not too late for me to learn a new trick or two—after all I am not a dog. Nor is it too late for me to make a course correction in my life. As a matter of fact, I am in the process of doing this exact thing. It is not too late for you, either. Maybe both of us—you who are reading this blog and me, have just discovered a glimpse of grace.
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A Glimpse of Grace from a Frozen Water Pipe!
It has been an usually cold winter this year due to an arctic vortex that has taken a liking to the eastern half of the United States. As a consequence, our high temperatures this winter have frequently hovered in the single digits, Fahrenheit. Wind chills, which are “cold temperatures with a press agent”, have plummeted into double digits below zero, Fahrenheit.
Early one morning my wife went into the bathroom after a particularly cold night of howling winds and turned on a faucet to the sink. Nothing came out. Not even air. She tried again. Still nothing. She called to me and I tried a different bathroom faucet with no more luck than she had. In all of my years, this had never happened to me before.
The first thought that crossed my mind was that the problem had to be with our reverse osmosis water system. I vaguely remembered when it was installed I asking the service representative how I would know when it was time to change the filters. He told that that was easy. We would know because the water would simply quite coming out of our faucets. So, I thought to myself, no water=change filters.
Off to a You Tube tutorial to learn how to change the water filters. I changed the two filters with a minimum amount of mess. Tried the faucets. Still no water! Damn! What next? You may have guessed it, call a plumber.
I have an very good relationship my local plumber because I learned long ago that there are two ways I can fix something. I can fix it and then call “The Man” to fix it OR, I can simply call “The Man” and simple save myself a lot of aggravation. I’ve call my “plumber Man” so often that we’re on not only a name basis but a nicknamed basis!
When he arrived the plumber checked things out, confirmed that I had installed the reverse osmosis filters correctly and diagnosed the problem as a frozen water pipe. “Impossible,” I thought. I’ve never had a frozen water pipe in my entire life! But, as he followed the various water lines it seemed that I indeed did have a frozen water pipe.
He cut a hole in our drywall about four inches from the ceiling to expose the troubled pipe. It was frozen! You could see the frost around it. As he worked on the problem I asked him how this could have happened as the house was more than sixty years old and there was no evidence of this kind of problem happening before now. Surely over the years, I reasoned, the house had seen winters just as cold as this one AND without the benefit of central heat.
“Have you had work done down here recently?” he asked. I thought a bit and then remembered that we had a baseboard dewatering system put in last summer. “I suspect,” he concluded, “that the new drywall is more insulated than the old drywall was. The water pipe was sealed off from internal air circulation that would have offset the outside temperature.”
It all made perfect and maddening sense. Once again, an example of unintended consequences. Fix one problem and create a new one! Isolated and self-contained the water pipe froze—and I might add, broke—for the first time in the life of the house!
After the plumber left I bought a cold air register vent to cover the hole in my drywall. I wanted to ensure circulation of air and save a little money. As I screwed the vent into place a thought crossed my mind. The water pipe was a parable about us. When we are sealed off from one another, isolated and insulated in our own little worlds with our own little concerns, we can become cold inside. The movement of God’s spirit within us slowly hardens until we find ourselves “frozen.”
We were made for each other, to be in community, to be part of something greater than ourselves. Happiness, true happiness, is found not in having but in giving ourselves away. And that, my friends, is a glimpse of grace.
Gimpses of grace from a dopp kit
Upon returning from a recent overnight trip I opened my dopp kit only to discover that a travel bottle of shampoo leaked all over one section of the kit. The leak left a slippery mess for me to clean up. Half disgusted with myself, I groaned as I dumped everything into the bathroom sink to rinse, leaving behind a sink full of shampoo suds. Then I rinsed out the kit itself, turned it over in the bathtub to drain and dry overnight. The next morning I picked it up and to my momentary horror discovered that the tub had two dark parallel lines, stains from where the wet leather made contact with the pristine white of the tub. I wiped out the contaminated section of the dopp kit with a hand towel and put everything away.
About a week later I took the kit out for another overnight trip. As soon as I opened it, the distinctive sweet clean smell of baby shampoo—okay, you caught me—floated through the air. Holding the kit in my left hand, I pulled back the shower curtain with my right and glanced down at the still stained, though slightly faded–thanks to Soft-Scrub, elbow grease and daily showers—tub as something dawned on me.
How many times have we made a mess of things or got hit by one of life’s spills, perhaps through no fault—or minimum fault—of our own? More times than not, we try our best to clean up the mess but residual stains always seem to remain. Something else also remains; the sweet clean God’s grace that surprises us at the most unexpected moments.
Glimpse of Grace and a Piece of Toast
Because of his parents’ work schedule, my five-year old grandson comes to my house for breakfast on just about every school day. Usually I am scurrying around when he arrives but one day I was more prepared than usual. As his usual arrival time approached, the bread in the toaster for his “go-to” breakfast of buttered toast. The butter had been set out long enough to be spread-ably soft. Then I sat in a chair strategically placed by the window and waited for his mom to careen into the driveway with her minivan! I waited, and I waited and I waited. Finally, I called his mom. “We’re running late,” she breathlessly explained. “I’m trying to get everyone buckled in. We’ll be there in a few minutes.”
I walked to the kitchen disappointed. This just wouldn’t do, I thought to myself. Toast is such a small thing but for me to be ready in advance advance of anything–all prepared, ready to go–that was a big thing! I took the toast out of the toaster. It was already hard and crusty. No amount of butter would soften it up! It was nothing more than a big crouton!
It’s funny where you mind takes you sometimes. The queerest thoughts often pop into it. As I buttered this crouton-that-once-was-toast I resigned myself to the fact that I’d make another piece of toast for my grandson when he arrived and would once again be “Pop the Unprepared!” And then, a glimpse of grace; a “prayerful word” that I received years ago wandered into my thoughts. One simple word. “Patience.” Originally the word came out of the blue to me during my morning devotions, but patience is not something that I am good at practicing. When I want something I want it now. I don’t like to wait. If I could, I’d “fast-pass” all of life’s rides not just those at a Disney theme park! But that is not how life works, is it?
“Wait for the LORD,” the Psalmist wrote. “Be strong and let your heart take courage; Yes, wait for the LORD.” (27:14) So I waited. And then I made another piece of toast. Each day I must remind myself to learn how to wait, to be strong and to have courage.