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Minutes of Meetings with God |
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Earth to Mickey ... |
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| I am a fairly typical human being in that I like to have order in
my life. My wife, Susie, might disagree with both parts of that statement,
that I'm a typical human being (sometimes she believes that I just arrived
from Mars..., I'm pretty sure that she is from Venus), and that I like order
in my life (she seldom goes into my library fear she'll get lost in the mess,
but it's an organized mess!!!). Despite Susie's opinion, I really do know
where all my stuff is. It's either in the closet, the library, the garage
or the barn, if it's not on the kitchen counter or on the dining room table
or in the utility room or in the car. Order, even if its meager and superficial,
lets me kid myself that I have things under control so I can feel comfortable
and safe.
I don't feel in control or comfortable or safe with just any "order," it has to be "my order". Things have to be where I put them or done the way I do them, it has to be my system, or I don't feel in control or comfortable or safe. Generally, I can live with other people's order (where they put things, how they do things, their system) and don't insist on "my way" (after all, if someone chooses to do things in other than the best possible way, "My way," that's up to them, it is still a free country). But if I can get it, I'm human enough to want my own way. Events of the past several weeks have conspired to show me how fragile and tenuous my efforts to bring order to my little world really are. I have been reminded that it doesn't take a whole lot to "throw everything out of wack" so that "My Way" doesn't work anything like I want. It's not that I don't want things to change in my life, it's that little changes seem to have substantial consequences. Little changes, seemingly insignificant occurrences, don't stay little or insignificant. Things I think I've planned seem to balloon in all sorts of unexpected directions and place demands on time and energy. For example, I am amazed at how much disruption moving two house plants twenty feet can cause, on second thought, don't ask!. I'm beginning to realize that I haven't learned one of the important lessons of Christmas. When God comes into our lives, it is often in an unexpected form (like a little baby) and what seems small and insignificant is really God coming into our lives to do something extraordinary. God tends to do little things that throw everything out of wack for us, things that show us that we can't find a lasting sense of control, comfort or safety by insisting on doing things "My Way". God brings us one step at a time, one experience after another, to the recognition that ultimately we have to live our lives God's way. Traditionally, the Church has used Lent as a time to focus on the journey of Jesus from his birth to his Resurrection. The baby born in the manger grew up to look like just another skilled tradesman, a carpenter, nobody important; but the carpenter became the One who would die on the Cross, and who would leave the tomb empty to save you and me. That was literally an earth shaking event. Over and over again, God takes the "least" and makes the most out of it. Jesus modeled the kinds of things that God does in his life and relationships with others. Jesus used spit and dirt to heal people who had been born blind, he used a child's lunch - a bit of bread and a few fish - to feed thousands, he used fishermen, tax collectors, traitors (that's pretty much what tax-collectors were thought to be) and assorted rootless, worthless people to make Apostles who would shake the world for the Kingdom of God. Making the transition from doing things "My Way" to doing things God's way tends to be very difficult for us, because the transition is about faith, about trusting God. It is not always easy to see God in what is going on in our lives; God keeps coming to us in the guise of babies and carpenters. God keeps coming to us in ways that at first may seem troublesome and not-at-all awe inspiring. When little things seem to be conspiring to show us that "My Way" just isn't "cutting" it, and we don't feel in control, or comfortable, or safe, it may mean that God is trying to help us learn some more about faith and about God's way. God's Way. The least shall be the greatest, the last shall be first, the Cross as the doorway into the blessedness of the Kingdom of God. Maybe God's way really is the best for all of us, even Martians like me. |