A Place at the Table, day 18

Life circumstances can be tough, especially when they play out in a way that was well outside of your control.  I just had a conversation about a friend who is going through it right now.  It's tough to watch someone's life crumble around them, of no fault of their own.

Yesterday we hung out with my brother and sister-in-law, who are expecting at the end of April.  We had quite a few conversations about our kids and the difficulties that go along with being from broken homes.  They get to see his daughters even less often than we have the girls, so it made me appreciate our dysfunction a little more.

I'm sitting here watching my girls make a stew/potion in the back yard of my folks house and aching that they won't get to experience these things on a daily basis.  My brothers and I grew up in this town of 450 (or 500, depending on which way you come into town) and had full reign of the town.  We'd ride our bikes all over the town, hang out with any number of people and just generally run wherever we wanted to.  Now I know that was a different time with different "rules," but there are so many things that my girls won't get to experience because of the circumstances of life that were and are way outside of their control.  And my heart aches for them.

But one of the lessons that I learned in the fateful summer of 2004 is that very little about life is really within our control.  Control is one of those illusions that we like to think we have so that we imagine that we are much more powerful than we actually are.  This fast has re-taught me that lesson.  So many of the "blessings" that our family has have nothing to do with anything except the place and time in which we were born.  We were all born in America, with plenty of money, food, and resources to be able to be provided for.  We were born into families that are able to not just provide for our daily needs but make it possible to get an education that goes well beyond basic education.  My girls have more money in their college funds than many children will see in their entire lives.

But I would bet you that we stress more about things like bills and responsibilities and the ability to provide for our loved ones than about any society in world history.  Because control is an illusion.  It reminds me of some words of a friend of mine.  "Consider the birds of the air.  They neither plant nor harvest nor store in barns, but your Father in the heavens feeds them.  Or look at the lilies in the field.  They don't work or sew.  And yet even Solomon in all his splendor looked like a pauper compared tho these.  If that's how God takes care of the flowers (and the birds) won't he take much better care of you? So don't worry about the things outside of your control.  Seek first the kingdom of God and his plan of restorative justice and all these other things will be taken care of as well."  If we were to learn no other lesson from this fast than this one thing, it would be hunger well spent.

A Place at the Table, day 5

I was worried about yesterday, seeing as how I had spent the day before feasting.  I was afraid that my body might have gone back into "regular diet" mode and that I would revisit the hunger pangs and anger of the previous week.  It turns out that none of those fears were founded.  Outside of an odd craving for a cold schooner of Shiner at about 7:00, my desires were pretty well under control.  At least for one day.

And it made me think about the nature of worry.  There's this illustration that Jesus uses in the Sermon on the Mount where he compares us to birds and flowers and grass and makes the point that, if God takes care of all of those things. why would we envision ourselves as less important?  When I was a freshman at Lincoln Christian College, I had to memorize that passage in its entirety (along with the rest of Matthew 5, 6 & 7).  So, I know that passage well.  But it is still such a challenge to live that out.

The statistics on worry are pretty enlightening.  I remember reading about a study that a smart person did about worry.  About 40% of the things that we worry about never come to fruition.  Another 30% of the things we worry about are things that have happened in the past.  Still another 12% of our worries have to do with other people's opinions of us -- at least our perception of their perception of us.  And still another 10% are needless health worries -- worries that actually cause our health to decrease due to the worry.  That leaves 8% of our worries devoted to legitimate concerns.  Hardly seems worth all of the mindspace that we devote to it, does it?

It continues to amaze me how, when you strip away things from your life, you begin to examine the pieces that remain.  And in a lot of ways, you don't like what you see.  I worry far to often about far too much.  Will the bills be paid?  Am I doing what I was called and created to do?  Will my kids grow up to love God and people?  What does so-and-so really think of me?

In the daily reading for day 5 (A Place at the Table, by Chris Seay), Chris points out that the remedy for worry is gratitude.  His challenge was to just have a piece of paper handy and to spend the day writing down the things that you are grateful for.  I honestly didn't read that devotion until today, so I didn't even attempt that.  I was too worried about other things.  So, maybe today I'll have the piece of paper next to me to write those things down.  Will you try it as well?

I WILL tell you this: the first thing I'll write on that paper (through gritted teeth) is black coffee.  Lots and lots of black coffee.