Perspective

Honestly, it took me about an hour to admit the value of this episode.

Last week we took our car to the shop for the 150,000 mile check. The brakes were good, the serpentine belt was fine, the shocks were good. Everything checked out fine. Well, almost everything. I had a screw embedded in my right rear tire. The mechanic where we took the car didn’t do tires, so we headed to Les Schwab for their Free Flat Repair. (Note: This situation has been resolved, but it’s still a good object lesson story).

They pulled the tire. The mechanic came to me: “I can’t fix your flat. There’s not enough tread left and the patch won’t hold.” I knew the tires were close to needing replaced. “What I can do is sell you a used tire. It’ll get you along for a few days.” $40. I told him to go ahead. He came back a few minutes later. “I can’t sell you one tire. You have All-Wheel Drive. I have to sell you four matching tires. I only have one used one.” We went to look at prices. Now, when we bought the vehicle we didn’t realize that: 1) it has 17 inch tires, and 2) 17 inch tires are expensive. Four tires, mounted and balanced: $908.20.

As calmly and as pleasantly as I could, I told him to put on the donut spare.

As I drove away from Les Schwab, I was angry. Furious. Livid. I was supposed to meet the rest of the family at a small mall for coffee. I was not in the mood for that, but I had no choice. Sitting, drinking coffee, I was like a little black storm cloud. I was not at all pleasant to be around. We got up and went to look at a decorative fountain while Andrea did some window shopping. As I was standing, seething, drinking my coffee, a homeless woman walked up.

“Are you having a good day sir?” Making only limited eye contact I answered, “No, quite frankly, I’m not.” I had hoped that would deter her from sticking around… it didn’t. She proceeded to chat with me, telling me some of her life. She was pleasant and articulate, but I was simply not in the mood. I didn’t even really pretend to listen. But then our eyes met. She smiled at me and put her hand on my shoulder. She said, “But you love God, don’t you. And you know that God loves you, and that God is going to take care of whatever you need.”

Seriously, God? I thought. Really? You decided to send a homeless woman who has almost nothing but her faith to remind me of mine? For the past forty five minutes or so, I had been telling myself (unconvincingly) it could be worse. I was hard pressed to define how, but I suppose I was trying. Then, I was offered perspective from a woman who has far less than I do.

Throughout the journey of the past year, God has repeatedly found ways to provide for us when we needed it most, and it’s usually come from unexpected and unlikely sources. But I suppose that’s where God does the best work; in those times and those areas where it’s obvious that we have nothing to do with it. Those times and those areas where we can’t claim any credit.

I look at where we are and what we need to make it to Thailand. I look at where we are and what we need to make it through the next few days and weeks. And I have no idea how that’s going to happen. But for some inexplicable reason – no… it’s not inexplicable, it’s from experience – I know that we’re going to get what we need, when we need it. And like it always happens, we’re probably going to receive a new perspective from an unlikely source.

Mannaroni and Cheese

During our small group this week, we were talking about our progress with preparations for going to Thailand. We talked about our financial challenges and our looking for work and for housing. We were talking about how we feel like we’re moving, but we’re not always sure it’s forward. Sometimes it doesn’t feel like we’re going anywhere. One of our friends made the comment: “You’re wandering your own wilderness. Macaroni and Cheese is your Manna.” I don’t mind Mac and Cheese, especially if it’s the good stuff. Not a fan of the three-for-a-dollar version. I like it with real grated cheese and little hot dogs chopped up inside. Not so sure I could eat it every day, but it is kind of symbolic.

In a way, we are kind of going through what the Children of Israel went through when they were in their forty year desert time. We know where the destination is, we just can’t seem to get there. We know we’ll get there eventually, but we don’t really know when or how. And sometimes, we’re guilty of doing the same kinds of complaining. “Have you forgotten us, God?” “This isn’t what we had in mind, God.” “I know the perfect solution to this, God.”

I hope God is more patient with us…

It’s hard to keep focused on a promise that doesn’t always seem to be in reach. It’s hard to keep focused on the future when it feels like you can barely get through the here and now. It’s hard to wait for something you feel like you’re ready for. I really can’t find fault with the Israelites for nagging God. Honestly, we’re been doing our own nagging.

Towards the end of their roundabout Palestinian tour, we get a few glimpses of the depth of their frustration. They are so done with wandering. And the people let their anger out pretty dramatically. So does God. It’d be nice if it were gentle reminders that everything is under control, but it’s not. It’s a really irritated parental “quit pestering me!” Again and again. We’re getting the same thing from God; thankfully it’s much gentler. Frequent reminders that we really are heading toward our call - toward our Promised Land - and that God really is going before us.