What we cannot know and what we can

I have been without words since late Friday afternoon, paralyzed in my writing.  My thoughts and my prayers have been spinning out in a thousand different directions.  None of us can comprehend the evil displayed in Paris last week. We have all been impacted by it. Deeds do not exist in a vacuum, but reverberate to encompass the world.

And we are all connected in some degree by the actions of those we do not even know.

Listening to the news, or even checking my email, was about the farthest thing from my mind on Friday.  We had helped our sick daughter that day by taking care of our two in-town grandchildren.  They played, they napped, and they left a trail of crumbs in the kitchen.  On our way back to their house late in the afternoon, my mother-in-law called to ask about one of our other daughters who had been traveling for the past week.  I heard just snatches of my husband's conversation with his mom.  "No, we hadn't seen the news... No, we haven't heard yet from her....We'll let you know."

We had no idea what was happening.  We snapped on NPR in the car.  The first shocking reports of the atrocities in Paris were coming to the surface.  No one seemed to know what was going on, except that it appeared that the unspeakable was still going on.

About fifteen minutes later, we received a text message from our daughter:  "Just wanted to let you know we're safe."

No sweeter words could we have received at that point.

Hours before the terrorist attacks began, our daughter and her friend had left Paris to finish up their trip in Lyon and fly home from there.  They had been staying very close to where the shootings occurred... and now, they were a two hour train ride away.

They had made those travel plans months and months ago, not realizing at the time that their idea to complete their trip in Lyon may have saved their lives.

Who knew?

God did.

There are things we cannot know at the time, narrow squeaks we slip through, devastating incidents we never see, like a truck that just misses us, or incredible encounters like sitting down next to a stranger who becomes a good friend. Or even a crazy idea to go to Lyon for something seemingly remote as a better airfare, or another art museum that needed exploring, or nothing in particular, just that it might be a fun thing to do.

There is nothing random at all.

"Never allow that the haphazard is anything less than God's appointed order, and be ready to discover the Divine design anywhere," says Oswald Chambers in My Utmost for His Highest.

There are so many things like this that we cannot know.  But there is something we can know, even in trouble, even in hardship, even in danger, even in grief:

Great is Thy Faithfulness.

Fear not, I am with you.
Be not dismayed, for I am your God.
I will strengthen you,
I will help you,
I will uphold you
     with My victorious right hand.

                       Isaiah 41. 10

Please keep praying for the people of Paris as they grieve the loss of precious, sacred lives.

The Quality of Mercy

The quality of mercy is not strain'd.
It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven
Upon the place beneath. It is twice blest:
It blesseth him that gives, and him that takes.
'Tis mightiest in the mightiest; it becomes
The throned monarch better than his crown.
His scepter shows the force of temporal power,
The attribute to awe and majesty,
Wherein doth sit the dread and fear of kings;
But mercy is above this sceptered sway;
It is enthroned in the heart of kings;
It is an attribute to God himself;
And earthly power doth then show likest God's
When mercy seasons justice.

                             William Shakespeare

                             The Merchant of Venice 

The world denies and decries

      and always appears surprised,

but every act of mercy

     changes the trajectory of the world.

You've Got This

Last week, we visited our daughter and her family who recently relocated for our son-in-law to attend seminary.  

The elementary school and a city park are located just a few blocks from their house.  One morning as we picked up our granddaughter from kindergarten, we lingered with her little brother and sister at the playground for fifteen minutes or so, before we headed home for lunch.  Two of her schoolmates joined them on the play equipment.

Maggie was practicing her skills on the monkey bars, learning to work her way across the rings to the other side.  The first few rings are within her abilities, but then about the third ring, she is stuck.  She swings her body and hangs on with both hands, but she cannot quite YET get past that point.  Her friend Sophia moves quickly across without hesitating and seemingly without effort.  It is obvious that she has been at this for awhile.  Sophia tried to encourage her friend.

“You’ve got this, Maggie!” she would shout from the other side.

But as much as Maggie really wants to make it, thinking positively or not, or trying to convince herself, the strength is not yet there.  Practice a little more.  Each week a little further.

It occurred to me as I watched her swinging her legs and grasping the rings how often I am stuck at that same spot in trusting God.  Those first couple of rings – no problem – I can really do those on my own.  But then…. when it comes to trusting God with the harder stuff, I grip even more when I should be moving forward.  And the hesitation makes trusting Him with the next ring that much harder.  And I get stuck.

We all face “monkey bars” in our lives.  We all face things that which only God can do – in His strength, in His timing, in His sovereign control.  And that does not mean a passive “You do it, LORD,” but a very active relying on Him, “You’ve got this, LORD.”  Help me through this.

I don’t have to attempt the entire span at once, but God nudges me, “Trust Me one more ring.”

And in the trying over and over, in the grasping, in the falling, in the climbing back up and trying again, God builds His strength in me, by knowing Him more.  I can trust Him in this.  He takes me to a deeper dimension in my relationship with Him, each strength building on another. 

And when we master this feat,

when we learn to trust Him in this,

         we are strengthened for the next,

one hand over another.

Because life gets a little harder

        outside the fence of the playground.

And when we get there,

     God has already equipped us.

It  is not our strength after all.

But  His.

GOD, the Lord, is my strength;

He makes my feet like hinds’ feet,

He makes me tread upon my high places.

                             Habakkuk 3. 19

Not trying to convince myself,

        you've got this,

but acknowledging out loud,

   "You’ve got this, LORD".

Your room is ready

We were away when some friends arrived in town for her father's funeral.  There was no space for them to stay at her sister's, and the hotel where they were staying seemed cold and businesslike.  They did not just need a room to attend a funeral.  They needed a refuge in their grief.

When our daughter told us what was happening, we told her to give them a key to our house. They could have free reign of the house and a place to rest without distractions.

"We can't do that!" the wife protested.  "We can't just show up and stay at someone's house without warning.  They are not even home."

And her husband quietly responded, "But maybe they are already ready for us."

Indeed, that is a lesson I have learned over the years.  Clean sheets and towels in place.  New toothbrushes in the bathroom drawer.  A spare key already made.

God has placed many people on our path at the last minute and often with little or no notice, including a medical student checking out residencies, a variety of missionaries passing through, and once, an elderly couple we had never met.....and that's an amusing story to be shared at a different time :)

Sometimes we were home, quite often we were not.  But we were ready.

And what about on ordinary days?  Am I ready for those people God puts on my path today?  Not just for a place to stay or another chair for supper, but a listening ear, a kind word, or even noticing and acknowledging those who are seemingly invisible around me.

It has been said that we make time for those things most important to us.  And many times in our culture, there doesn't even seem time for those things.  For awhile, a viral video on the Internet summed it up, "Ain't nobody got time for that."

But as a Christian, I am called to do things differently.  I am called to see things differently.  I am called to respond to people differently. Because as a believer, "it is no longer I who live, but Christ who lives in me." (Galatians 2. 20).  There is a huge freedom in that.

How differently would we view these incidents or opportunities if we saw them in terms of the Gospel?

I don't have to carve out huge pockets of time, but just be aware, willing and ready, to pull out a snack for someone, pull up another chair to the table, and put out the welcome mat in every form and dimension. Kind words out of my pocket, a toothbrush in the drawer.  It's all the same.

And so, when Paul admonished Philemon to "prepare a guest room for me," (Philemon 1. 22), he knew that it was not a matter of square footage but a heart condition.  Not space for a guest, but a willingness for God to work through me.  It is no different than if the LORD had said, "prepare a guest room for Me."

The world calls it margin.  The Bible calls it grace.

A box of paper towels and other such mysteries

Our daughter was swamped with a big project which involved her working from pre-dawn to almost midnight yesterday.  With what little I can help and when I am available, I attempt in those situations to fill in the gaps.

I was on dog duty, going over to her house twice yesterday to let her dog out.  No big deal.  Glad to do it.

Since it was pouring rain all day, I took with me a box of paper hand towels to wipe off wet paws before her dog could decorate the house with excess water, grass clippings, and possibly mud.

When our daughter arrived to her home at midnight, there was the box of paper towels, sitting on top of the garbage can right by the back door.  She had no idea what they were for or why they would be there in that unlikely spot.  But as she told me this morning on her way to work, "Knowing you, mom, I knew that there must be a reason for it."

When I told her its purpose, she said, "That totally makes sense."

How often God places a person or situation on our paths that appears out of place, without obvious function, possibly inconvenient, uncomfortable, and illogical.

And God always has not just a reason for it,
           but purpose in it.
Something that may not be in my plans at all,
                        but in His.

I may not get it,
    but His fingerprints are all over it.
There is nothing random,
          or for naught,
in God's economy.

And our response is not a matter
of seeking an answer for a difficulty,
explaining away a mystery,
or concocting our own imaginings,
        but to seek Him through it.
I may never know why.
God just calls me to be faithful in it.

Knowing You, O LORD,
there is not just a reason,
    but purposes too deep to comprehend.

He is before all things,
and in Him
    all things hold together.

                 Colossians 1. 17

Even in this.

We would stand astonished
                if we knew.