Those Little Things

I was feeling pretty happy about a lot of things in general when some little things began to happen. Little things began to happen into my kitchen. Creep, in fact. At first they were very small, manageable, and yet creepy notwithstanding. Although when I was standing above them with a yell and a totally imaginary weapon wishing to dash them to pieces they would usually be standing for a second as they ascertained the threat of my presence before starting the high-legged scamper out of my way.

It got worse when the small things with legs were joined by bigger things with legs and tiny little paws and squeaks. My personal squeaks started to get louder as the days went by. Who, I declare, said you little things could partake in enjoying the warmth and pleasure of residence in my apartment?!

The little things would mostly come out when my husband was hours away at a distant job (well maybe just one hour) or when he was sound asleep in bed and I was up with hunger and a baby. For a while I tolerated the little things (after all, they are in fact little things!) but it got worse.

The little things got bigger. That was the hideous nature of these little things. Bigger became the little things, and bigger became my hatred for their presence.

They say, you know, “enjoy the little things in life.” They must’ve not known about these little things.

One day I decided I must, for my precious sanity, be able to find something to be thankful for about the presence of the skittering little things. 

My list looked like this...

1. There aren’t more of them 

2.

Now, even if I did not have the emotional capacity to enjoy these little things, surely my thank-er could do better than that. 

“Lord,” I pled as I sat in the dimness of a night with a nursing baby, “can you show me why you let these annoying little things become a part of my life! I’m so fed up with them, but starting to wonder if maybe you sent them to me with a message...if so, would you please open my eyes?” 

My list started getting longer. 

1. There aren’t more of them. 

2. I don’t have reason anymore to look down on people who are living with houses full of cockroaches and mice. 

3. Walmart probably has more traps in stock by now, to add to our growing collection. And anyway, we could be in a remote area with no Walmart! 

4. I’ve never stepped on one of these creatures in the dark, like my imagination has suggested could happen. 

5. Our roaches (eew!) are smaller things than those three inch ones I’ve seen in pictures or the zoo! 

6. The mice aren’t very smart. They haven’t eaten things in my pantry so far 

7. They haven’t invaded our bedroom to my knowledge - like in Ghana where I would find droppings by our pillows on our bed inside our mosquito net.

8. My husband has joined me on the no-more-mice campaign!! (After being scared himself by a mouse in the bathroom in the middle of the night)

9. I have a new incentive to sweep my floors and wash my dishes! 

Well. I found nine things to be thankful for, but I still haven’t found myself enjoying these little things. When they make their appearance I think of evil embodied. Not very inspiring.

Therefore, maybe I will just leave you with the challenge: are there any little things that have crept into your life that need taken care of? Maybe it’s a little resentment towards your husband, or a little self pity about the part of your story that God is walking you through right now. Perhaps a little selfishness or a little pride.

Let me just warn you: little things have a way of breeding more little things. You don’t want Jonathan to come into your house to move your table only to have a leg fall out with illions of little things pouring out, hitting the ground running and waving their antennae. (Real happening. Just not at my house. Shudder.) Little things have a way of becoming big things. You don’t want to go there.

Ask God what is the best way to go about eradicating such pesky little things that may sneak into your life.

If you don’t have mice at your house, or cockroaches, or any other common ground with me, congratulations. 

To all: may the little things in your life come with easy-to-find reasons to be grateful for them and may your pesks be few.

You Did It, You Did It

Evening commuters already had their headlights on as they sped past the house while the afternoon exchanged prominence with the evening. Upstairs in Big Sister’s room, Tiny Brother settled happily in front of an old cassette tape, CD and radio player all-in-one. Oh, how he enjoyed when Big Sister would put in some music and he could sit there, enjoying the sounds and feelings of the music rolling out into the room.

His favorite part, however, was to get his hands on the little knobs and buttons of the old black music player. As the music played, a smile of delight would spread over his face. He, himself, little though he was, would make the music crescendo to a room-filling boom and then suddenly disappear entirely, only to come back in another gaudy crescendo moments later as he turned the volume button.

This time, however, was different. 

There was no music playing. He figured he could take care of that, as he began to punch, twist, and turn all kinds of buttons and knobs. He popped a tape out, then slammed it back in. Twist, twist. No crescendo. Popped a CD out and back into its little thin alcove. Twist, twist. Not a sound. 

Puzzled, he began pushing and turning every button or possible option he could see, becoming more frustrated every moment. 

I watched, perched on my bed, as Tiny Brother’s puzzled demeanor began to turn into frustration. (For “Big Sister” was me.) Quiet as a leaf falling, I snuck up behind him, knowing precisely the source of his problems. I slipped my hand around the side to the hidden button labeled “power” and gave it a tap. Suddenly, the frantic twisting of the volume buttons produced a swell of glorious music! Sheer delight flooded Tiny Brother’s face. He looked up at me with profound pride. “I did it!” He shouted triumphantly, “I did it, I did it!”

Sometimes I might just be like Tiny Brother in this memory of mine that resurfaced recently. 

How many times do I do an inner adult version of the “I did it, I did it” dance, when really anything I did was done because of Someone outside myself? By God’s grace, I am becoming quicker at catching my sneaky thoughts and sending the mental accolades back to Him. But how many times do we toil with frustration, attempting to do something beautiful, but when God turns on the “power” we try to take the credit? I wonder how that makes Him feel!

Perhaps a more fitting celebration would be an enthusiastic, “You did it! We did it!” as we look into our Father’s face.

So little of the credit for the things that we humans accomplish rightfully goes to us.

For example, should I take credit for the things I write here? I don’t think so. (Unless, of course, my content is theologically incorrect or boring!) First of all, God is the original inspiration of anything and everything that turns out good, I am sure. He is the one who stirs in my heart and makes me even want to share the things He is doing. He is the one who chose to give me ability to enjoy writing and the gift of having fun with words and thoughts. Moreover, He is the one who decided to put me in a family where I received a good education and encouragement to write. Additionally, if there is any way in which the things I write bless someone or inspire them, that is just because GOD touched His “power button”, not because of me!

I have been reading a book about humility recently, and realizing that my pride must be pretty much the biggest reason for the stresses I find in my life. There is rest in a place of knowing how truly small I am and how this life isn’t about me. At all. In that place, I seem to find I don’t have anything to lose; whether in reputation, agenda, rights, status and so forth. I find a new freedom to try, to make mistakes, to be wrong, to let go, to surrender; I am OK to be broken if I break, and out of the picture when I’m out of the picture. Jesus offers rest for the weary when we come to Him and learn to have His gentle, humble heart. (See Matthew 11:28,29) I think that could be also said, He offers rest for those who stop fruitless efforts and turn their expectant hearts to Him, saying “The music isn’t playing and I don’t have access to the Power button. Can You help me?”

Next time I say I was stressed out, perhaps you could ask me if I’ve been twisting and turning the volume buttons  without the Power.

Next time things are getting frustrating and overwhelming, I’m asking God to remind me to come to Him for power. And then I can celebrate with Him, “You did it! We did it! You did it!”

Thankful

I haven't found myself very inspired this week. (That unfortunate state inspired me to work on my document called “What Do You Do When Inspiration Leaves You?”; maybe sometime I’ll decide it’s edifying enough to share and I’ll get a chance to hear YOUR tips! Or you could give them in prelude too if you like.) I decided that one good way out of my bleary, not-very-inspired-fog would be to write down things I’m really grateful about tonight as a note to God. If you want to know what some of those things are, go ahead and read; if not, you could always write one of your own, and that might be even better! ;)

• The way that bitter and sweet complement each other (in my steamy evening cup of Dandy Blend as well as in life in general)

• That men’s retreat isn’t every month (my hubby is gone for the weekend)

• My neighbor-friend not being able to find any other ride to an appointment yesterday, which forced me outdoors and into a gorgeous day I thought was cold and wintry

• A lovely time connecting with my friend that I wouldn't have otherwise had

• Joy’s joy...her infectious smiles that make me unable to keep from smiling back!

• Delight after sorrow - the way God’s Kingdom works, that when you plant in sorrow you reap in joy.

• Friends who pray for me - what a treasure! 

• That God is a God of solutions

• A new niece born safely this week! Ah, thank You Lord.

• The mental space and physical ability (an app that started working again) for studying Arabic every day this week! (Cue cheering)

• That in the Tower of Who God Is, I am SAFE. (Been meditating on Proverbs 18:10) What an awesome thing that safety is.

• The delightful feeling of anticipation; I'm planning to spend time with my family tomorrow!

• The special time of life I'm in right now. I have reminisced several times this week on previous seasons of life and thought, "Wow, sometime I'll look back on this season in a really sentimental, nostalgic kind of way! I should see how much I can enjoy these moments as they're happening 'live'!"

Training my Parrot

The days were filled with an unutterable amount of things to do. Being in the oldest part of a large family whose schedule was filled with touching lives outside our tribe as well as within was a delightfully, crazily busy season of life! In fact, my memories of our schedule could resemble a jelly filled cookie. The dry cookie part was the schedule and the jelly was all the miscellaneous things that stuck in all the cracks and made life rich and FULL! I loved it. But sometimes I was tired.

Way back then, the big thing on the proverbial horizon was a three month trip to Africa. Folks, it looked huge. How was I going to be able to do this? Part of the culprit behind the I have since learned that my imagination is like a beautiful parrot that I am in the process of trying to train (it can be a really wonderful part of life, but it can also lie to me about the future and be quite annoying). However, I wasn’t fully aware about the snares of my imagination back then and it went flying about my mind, chattering and chittering about all kinds of possible events in the future. For example, 

“You’re lying on a one-inch mattress in an unbearably hot room, so weak that you can’t even walk to the bathroom. You’re unutterably embarrassed by this, because what if the most intimidating of the people who will be over there is the one who will care for you? And you’ll be so sick you can’t eat and they’ll have to take you to the hospital to get an IV; imagine how that will feel! You never got one of those before, so that makes it Scary. Then you might get so sick you almost die, and prayer chains will be starting for you back in the states, and you will start losing consciousness...imagine how that will feel!” - at which point I would shudder and try my best to change the subject, or evade the topic; for the immensity of how that might feel was too horrible to consider!

Or the “parrot” might say, 

“You won’t be able to handle the food over there. They say it’s horrible...think compost. You know, the slimy rotting goo in the bucket that didn’t get cleaned? Yeah, you know they say the food is fermented, so it’s possibly like that. How will you ever get that down your throat?! You’re already underweight, so this could be really dangerous to your health. Unless they force you to eat it. You’ve heard they do that, haven’t you! That would be another story in its own -“

Photo by Philip MacKenzie

And so forth, on and on the Imagination would chatter about the Future and how on earth will I ever be able to handle it? 

Well, one day I had a good realization interrupt that parrot. “Maybe you should talk back.” It said. “Tell your imagination what to think. Write it down, so you don’t forget it: 

‘I wonder what His grace will feel like, then?’”

So I started trying it out. It really did help. I believe I even wrote it on a sticky note and put it where I would see it every day. I started entering those future moments in my mind with a curiosity that actually helped: 

“What would it feel like to be surrounded by GRACE in that moment?! I never felt that amount of grace before! That would be incredible!”

Since I have already lived through those three months by now, I can tell you that they went absolutely wonderfully. I was sick only one day, and I received such a good attitude to go with the sickness that I laughed more than usual and didn’t feel overwhelmed in the least! The food was rarely a challenge for me, and when it was, I enjoyed rising to meet it with a spirit of adventure. The people who intimidated me became good friends and in short everything I feared fell flat before the goodness and grace of the Lord.

It’s good for me to remember those days.

Since that time, I’ve had both easier and rougher seasons of life. Some of the seasons I felt like the negative things the parrot said were true. But there was always grace. Sometimes I chose to breathe in the fumes of self-pity, and THOSE were the toughest times.

Naturally, there are new things in front of me now that my inescapable parroting imagination chatters about. It’s a timely reminder to me to spend some time training my "parrot" to trade asking me “how awful would that feel?” for

“I wonder what God’s grace would feel like THEN!”