It had been a pretty tough
week. Most of the major events of the
week had been more negative than positive; presentations that did not go well,
client issues that we simply could not seem to resolve. News from the field that was the opposite of
what I had wanted to hear. That is not
to say all the news was bad. To use a
military metaphor, we had won skirmishes and lost battles. I was in a bit of a cross mood, but was
trying to put a happy face on things.
I had a cancelation for an
evening meeting. Without enough time to
find another appointment to fill that slot I decided to plan a little get
away. To understand this get away, I
have to tell you a little about myself.
I hate city living. I live in a
city of about 4,000 people. We are
located on a state hwy with what seems like constant traffic. I prefer chickens, hogs, cattle, and gardens
to city living. When I am in a big city
(anything over 30,000), the constant noise makes me feel like I am going to
turn into ash and blow away. I feel like
a caged animal in the press of large populations. Having been on the road all week, I was
desperately looking forward to this get away.
I had found a little slough that
made its way to about a 10-acre shallow lake.
I was going to take a kayak and paddle this slough and explore the
lake. My plan was to get to the lake
about 5 in the afternoon and enjoy the quiet till full dark and paddle back by moonlight. I had seen a 3 foot gator once before and was
looking forward to photographing the wild life.
I was almost giddy with excitement.
As I drove toward the lake, I saw the worst thing I could imagine at
that moment; an airboat on a trailer headed for the lake.
For those of you who may not be
familiar with airboats let me describe them to you. These boats are flat-bottomed craft, with a
airplane propeller the thrust of which pushes the boat across the water. They only require about 6 inches of water to
operate and can, with a large enough motor, push across dry land. The motor of choice seems to be a large V-8
engine with NO MUFFLER AT ALL. This set
up would be almost universally illegal if it were in a car. Don’t get me wrong, I believe there is a
place for these loud boats. It is
patrolling the lake of fire and brimstone, piloted by demons to make sure that
all the damned suffer. But a quite
remote lake is not where they belong. On
this and other issues, I disagree with the state of Florida.
Seeing that airboat head down the
long dirt road that dead ended in a remote lake was the trigger I needed for a
full blown self pity party with a major dose of self righteousness as the guest
host. It didn’t help that I went to a
boat launch on a near by river to find it infested with loud scantily clad,
over weight women, having a white trash argument over who had the better
looking back side.
I railed against the inherent
unfairness of my life, of what a good person I was and how my life was such a
hardship. I complained that I did so
much good and others got the reward. I
fumed that while I loved the beauty of creation, people who are not as good,
wise, or gracious as me ruined it and robbed me of my one and only effort for a
respite. I could go on, but I won’t
because it only got worse. I will
suffice to say I could teach Jonah and Job how to complain and indulge in self-pity. It was not pretty. As I have reflected over this complaint, a
few things came to mind. I hope my
confessions will help you.
When I grumble about difficult
clients and the struggles of my work I am testifying against myself. I am charging myself with the sin of lack of
faith. I am unintentionally admitting
that I believe I am my own provider and not God. It reveals the sin of not trusting God.
When I indulge in self-pity, I
confess to the sin of accusing God of not loving me. Self-pity assumes that God doesn’t love me or
else things would work out better. Is my
love for God based on what He can deliver for me, or loving Him for who He is?
When I wallow in the harshness of
my wounded pride and self, I testify that I do not have the joy of the
Lord. His joy is not based on
circumstances, but on the relationship I have with the Son and through Him the
relationship I have with the Father.
In the depths of my spiraling,
sinful emotions I believe, “Everyone would be better off if they were not
associated with me in any way.” I bring
an accusation of evil against God. I am,
in effect, saying “God, you did not know what you were doing when you made me,
and when you brought me to this place in my life. You did evil in making me and in bringing
these people into relationship with me.”
To claim to know more than God about how He should make people is
perhaps the highest form of pride, and is very much like the accusations of
Satan before his fall.
To rail against the circumstances
of life is to show the hypocrisy of my prayers.
Didn’t I just recently pray for God to shape me and form me to be useful
for His purposes? Like a potter He
applies pressure to shape the clay and the clay moans and accuses the potter of
not being a good potter. Perhaps my
prayers are play-acting religion to try and impress God and curry His favor to
get what I want.
Clearly, I failed the test. A student asked the professor, “Why did you
give me an “F”? To which the professor
patiently replied, “I didn’t want to give you an “F”. But unfortunately, it was the lowest grade I
could assign.”
But here is the good news for me
and for you if you can at all relate to this story. God allows us the option to get up and try
again. I wish that I had done better! I hope that I will do better in the future! I hope that I will be able to understand the
pressures of life, not as some great injury or injustice that have singled me
out as a victim, and invite me to a self thrown pity party. But, rather, I want to see the pressures of
life as the hand of the potter pressing on me to make changes so I can be more
useful. I am a long way from where I
ought to be; further away than I thought.
But maybe, just maybe, I have better clarity on where I am, which way I
ought to be going, and how far I ought to go.
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