Scrolling through Facebook this morning, I ran across a meme that said,
“Is anyone else just going through life like ‘I just gotta get past this last difficult week and then it’s smooth sailing from there!’ but like…every week?”
I had just been reminiscing about how when we were first married every need we had seemed to cost $5. We needed $5 for a last minute item from the grocery store to finish dinner for guests who would arrive in half an hour, $5 for the hardware to fix the door that wouldn’t latch quite right, $5 to contribute to the group gift at work. Each item was just $5, but when we added them all up, the total pressed us.
Later, when our children were small, it shifted to $10. A package of diapers was about $10, so was the team t-shirt, or enough burgers and fries at McDonald’s to feed three kids and justify their time in the Playland. It seemed we never had enough $10 bills to cover all the items on our list.
Before long, the price of ‘everything’ grew to $20. Then it was $50, then $100. Each time we had an unexpected expense, we shifted, braced, ponied up, and prayed that if we just “got past this last difficult week” then it would be “smooth sailing.”
Back then ‘crises’ looked different than they look now, too. I remember the time, for instance, when my husband and I returned from a long day at our respective teaching positions, looking forward to the chicken dinner that had been roasting in the crockpot all day, only to find that I hadn’t turned the crockpot ‘on’ and that the chicken was still raw. I thought the world had ended. I had wasted “all that food”; certainly I was a failure as a wife.
Or the time when I had planned the menus for a three-day visit from out-of-town guests, budgeted carefully, brought all the groceries home, prepared the first meal, and discovered one of our guests snacking on the corn chips that had been purchased for the next day’s nachos. I dragged my husband into the bedroom and said, “What are we going to do? Now I don’t have everything I need for tomorrow’s meal!” I was seriously distressed.
Over the years we have certainly weathered much worse that prematurely noshed nacho chips. We have managed through many ruined meals, illnesses, broken hearts, car accidents, disappointments, and surprises. And still, I keep hoping that this will be “the last difficult week” before we hit the period of “smooth sailing”.
We have had seasons of smooth sailing. Many. However, I haven’t seemed to grasp that “smooth sailing” isn’t what is promised. In fact, it is far more likely that we will face “troubles of many kinds”. The troubles are the given. The reprieves are the unexpected blessings. So why do I set myself up to believe the opposite?
I guess I want to believe the best. I am inherently a glass-half-full girl. Yes, our finances are going to work out. Of course, our children are going to be healthy. Surely, we will be successful and well-liked. Naturally, everyone will agree with us. I choose the path of hopefulness to a fault.
The problem with believing the best will happen in every situation is that I don’t always prepare for any alternative. I don’t guard myself for the ‘given’ of disappointment. I don’t store up for the days of famine. I believe that everything is going to run just how I planned. I don’t buy extra ingredients just in case; I buy exactly what I need. So, I’m often found standing, mouth agape, in shock that someone is standing there eating my corn chips.
But here’s the thing — people are going to eat the corn chips.
Now, I do realize that corn chips are not a big deal. They are hardly even a $5 item. But the $5 items teach us what to do when we are one day faced with a $100 or a $1000 item (or even several of them all in the same week). I can get pissed that someone ate my corn chips, I can ask them to run to the store and pick up another bag, or I can simply say, “Oh, I’m glad you felt at home enough to help yourself!”
In trying out different responses to these $5 items, I am building resiliency–muscle–that will sustain me when I am hit with a more substantial crisis — someone I love is hospitalized, or we discover we owe Uncle Sam a lot. Again. Or we lose a loved one, or get a life-altering diagnosis.
We face troubles of many kinds. All of us do. All the time. My troubles seem huge to me right now. So do yours. Our hearts are broken in a million places and we are devastated. We’ve been lied to, cheated on, forgotten, abandoned, mistreated, and deceived.
The corn chips pale in comparison, don’t they?
But the $5 problem and the corn chip crisis have a lot to teach us. I wish when I came home to the cold chicken in the crock pot my first response would have been, “Ok, God, what’s for dinner now? And what do you want me to learn from this?” Instead, if I remember correctly, I spouted lots of self-deprecating phrases, stormed around the house, probably cried, and ultimately got a pizza. It’s ok. I had a human response. However, I think that ultimately God wants more for me than self-blame, shame, and anger. I believe that in my $5 problems and my $100,000 problems, God longs for me to look to Him.
What if, in every decision, instead of mustering my resolve and believing that I myself will be able to manage every situation, I instead turned, raising my eyes and my hands to God, and admitted that all of it is too much for me? What if I acknowledged that my pennies and my corn chips all come from God? How would I experience life differently? How would I weather crisis and even trauma?
I’m not too old to learn a different way. Honestly, I’m given opportunities every day.
If you are in the habit, as I am, of kicking butts and taking names, of putting out fires on the fly, of keeping multiple plates spinning, of trying to handle everything on your own, this type of change will be a challenge. The impulse in every difficult situation is to be a first-responder — to stop the gushing blood, provide oxygen, perform compressions, and avert any casualties. Fighting that impulse is hard, especially if ultimately you are truly the only one who can help. But here’s the thing: God has every situation in the palm of His hand. He’s got it. He can handle everything for the few moments it takes you to pause, look Him in the eyes, and ask, “Is there something you’d like me to do here?”
That’s all. Just pause and ask Him. He may say, “Stand by. Help is on the way.” He may say, “Yes, I really need you to stabilize this situation until help arrives.” He may say, “Stand down.”
Mm. This soldier certainly does not like to be told to “Stand down.”
But. If I trust that God has everything in the palm of His hand and that He alone knows the best course of action, don’t I want to check with Him before I act? Before I pay the $5? or before I lose my mind about a stinking bag of corn chips?
It sounds pretty simple when I put it like that, but I’m telling you, this is the lesson of my life. It’s about time I learned it.