Cogs, not Clogs

This week I'm reminded of my smallness; the smallness of my perspective, of my effort and my influence. Some weeks my self-import feels weighty; this week it feels infinitesimal. I'm but a small cog in a very large machine. As a kid I saw lots of machines in family movies where zany scientists used absurdly complex machines to accomplish mundane goals. Each piece was integral to the success of the whole, sometimes to disastrous results.

When I was growing up, a favorite family game was Mouse Trap. During gameplay, the players built an elaborate trap piece by piece, with the goal of catching a mouse before it ate the cheese. The suspense grew each turn as the trap grew and evolved. Some pieces were weirdly shaped or funny, some were placed precariously. One never knew if, ultimately the trap would work or fizzle-out half-way.

That's where I'm at. I am balancing precariously, wondering if this whole set-up will accomplish the task after all. Will my involvement mean the difference between victory and defeat? Will I perform well, when I'm finally called into action? What's the big pay-off anyway?

The Bible talks in 1 Corinthians about how Christians are all pieces of the same body; that we are interconnected and valuable- not for our homogeneity, but for our uniqueness Each part has a function and a role that is singular but interdependent on the others.

Last week, as we struggled through our son's health scare, we saw that interconnectedness manifest with meals delivered, prayers lifted and burdens shared. As small and as impotent as we felt, we experienced the body of Christ around us in a powerful way.

1 Corinthians 12

25b All of them will take care of one another. 26 If one part suffers, every part suffers with it. If one part is honored, every part shares in its joy.

It's ok to be small sometimes. It's ok to be the weak link or the needy one. Staying plugged in is where I can best be of use and where I can best benefit from the whole system. If I move myself somewhere else, somewhere more exciting or closer to the action, I won't fit like I'm supposed to. My usefulness will evaporate. Instead of igniting positive change, I'm more likely to gum-up the works of a system that isn't meant to fit. Realizing this, I will stay where I've been put and do my best to be a cog and not a clog.

Healing Happens

This weekend our family plunged head-first into the Belizean healthcare system with our son needing an appendectomy. We feel so blessed to have received a quick diagnosis and relatively quick surgery. We are blessed that the thing poisoning our son was quickly identified and removed. Now we are in the post-op healing phase. I saw "we" because as a family unit, we are all affected.

No one talks much about this part of the process, where the highest threat is over, but you are still in the throes of its aftermath. Yesterday was the first day post-op. Despite talking with AJ about what comes next, he didn't know how to manage expectations. The pain was significantly lower, but still achingly there. The horror and emotional exhaustion hit him for the first time; his body now well-enough to start processing the trauma. In many ways, day 1 of healing was harder than the day before.

Have you ever experienced this spiritually? Emotionally? Have you diagnosed something that was silently killing you and subsequently removed it, only to feel worse? Maybe it was a mind-set or a root of bitterness. Maybe it was a toxic relationship or addiction. You experienced the euphoria of cutting it off, expecting your life will be so much better once it's go, only for the painful realities of healing set in.

Through the tears of exhaustion, and fearful questions about what really went on, healing happens. In the midst of the shuffle of "two steps forward, one step back," healing happens. As weakness gives way to strength and sickness yields to health, healing happens. Despite the hurt, healing happens.

Psalm 30:5b

Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes in the morning.

Throwing Shade

I've been listening to a Christian podcast since the beginning of the year and the theme recently has been the desert. There are tons of stories and imagery in the Bible that derive from this foreboding environment. I've spent the last few weeks listening, learning a lot, and pondering the desert in new ways. I also came to realize that I'm in a spiritual desert myself.

The podcast goes into great depth in analyzing different characteristics of the Biblical desert, which I won't do here (I'll add a link below for those interested in checking out the podcast).

One thing that really spoke to me, though is the need for respite during a desert trek. When there is only direct sun and torturous heat, people simply can't survive. Those who travel through the desert for days, weeks and even months can do so by catching their breath and resting in a sliver of shade.

Trees in the desert are often quite small, leafless and gnarly. They're a far-cry from an oak tree or a weeping willow. While the rare oasis does exist, most often shade is found under a prickly bush much smaller than your average adult.

Imagining myself as that prickly bush or cactus gives me comfort. When I'm in the desert, I'm not luscious green or generously endowed with the fruit of the Spirit. I am prickly. I am barren. I am dry. But I can still be a place of respite for a fellow weary traveler.

Today I spent some time visiting a sick friend. I brought her a homecooked meal and sat listening to her heart's cry. I didn't heal her or fix her financial woes. I couldn't lift her out of the desert that she's in, but for an hour or two I gave her a bit of a reprieve from the elements that have beat her down.

We shared stories of our desert times; stories of isolation and pain, weakness and need. We encouraged each other to trust the process and the One who has us in His hand. Sitting under the shade of her mango tree, I felt God's presence and pleasure.

Psalm 121:5

The Lord himself watches over you!

The Lord stands beside you as your protective shade.

Matthew 18:20

"For where two or three gather in my name, there am I with them.”

So often, in our desert times, we feel worthless because we fall short of all the grandiose images we have of ourselves as super Christians and neighborhood heroes. In the desert, it's hard enough just to be and let the Lord stand protectively over us. But while we're at it, we should try to throw a little shade ourselves.

The BEMA Podcast 27: Images of the Desert — Rotem and Acacia (bemadiscipleship.com)