Tuesday, February 19, about 8:45 a.m. Just a bit more than nine months ago.
I was about to leave for work when my phone rang. I recognized the number as Jim’s old cell number and wondered why on earth he was using it to call me.
The answer came when I accepted the call. His work cell phone was no longer his, nor was his office. The CFO had informed him that due to a reduction in force (RIF), his position as vice president, software applications, was being eliminated. Along with 24 others, including one additional vice president, he was ushered out of the building by security and told to return on Saturday to clean out his office.
Somehow we both managed to get in touch with our girls, our families, and others who needed to know. I decided to stay home from work that day just to be with Jim and offer support. But there was no need.
Jim wasn’t coming home just yet. He had already planned two coffee dates with people from his network and would visit several recruiters before the day was done. When I came home after work, our dining room had been converted to what we jokingly referred to as The Office of Transition. The centerpiece was replaced by an aging iMac, and the table was already littered with papers, business cards, notes with phone numbers, and numerous unfamiliar items that had formerly lived in his office. By the end of the first week, he had already found several good job leads in Memphis. Not bad for an introvert.
The higher you go in management, the fewer positions are available, and we knew this would be a long process. After a few months, we prepared ourselves for the possibility of moving away from Memphis for the next opportunity.
We decided to think of it as an adventure in empty nest living. Maybe we’d live in a small miniscule downtown condo in Chicago; a rambling stony house with a beautiful pool in a Houston suburb; Minneapolis, where we would finally get enough snow for my taste; a home within walking distance of the beach in Jacksonville, Florida; or maybe in a city like Roanoke, Birmingham, Atlanta, Louisville, Nashville, or … St. Louis. I could almost hear the crack of the bat in Busch Stadium, where we’d have season tickets.
Having Jim home each day was new for me, and we began to develop routines. In the late afternoons, we’d both take a break and watch Gilmore Girls together. Some days I’d work from home and we’d head to the patio to work and enjoy the outdoors. Many mornings he made coffee, and I loved waking up to the smell. We counted the days until the opening day of baseball season, and the Cardinal games meant we always had something to do in the evenings. When Sara Ann moved back in with us, he was here to spend time with her and help her move, and he enjoyed taking walks with the dogs.
There were times that it felt like too much, as if the house would fall on us and we’d be left standing in the midst of fallen walls and shattered windows. When our girls were small and they were afraid, I’d tell them that nothing is as scary as God is strong. In their childlike faith, those words were comfort; in our adult doubts and fears they brought peace as we realized we were not alone. Over these months we were reminded that faith is more than just church on Sunday morning and a check in the offering plate. We learned anew that beyond every disappointment there’s a bit of new wisdom and that God is always, always faithful. I knew I’d grown when, after a particularly difficult no on a potential position, I realized I wasn’t upset or angry, but confident that the right opportunity would come, and excited for something better that must be in store.
From the moment I caught my breath after that phone call in February, our faith gave us an underlying peace, as we knew that God was with us, He was in control, and that the important things in our lives are not things. As the hymn reminds us, morning by morning new mercies I see. And we did. Some large, some small.
Jim’s old iMac, which should have long since stopped working, is still going, though frustratingly slow. His car needs $1200 worth of work, none of it critical, and will likely be done by whomever we sell it to after the holidays. My freelance work picked up so much that for a while I had no downtime. We were taken to dinner too many times to count, and spent long hours lounging in my sister’s pool. In May, my mother treated me to a incredible trip to New York, and in October my sister and brother-in-law took me to a World Series game in St. Louis.
Family “picnics” after church in a meeting room we borrowed. Some of the best-tasting peanut butter & jelly sandwiches ever.
But most of all, God gave us four seasons of faithfulness: spring flowers, home-grown tomatoes, beautiful sunsets, cool breezes, and fall leaves of every color. There is nothing that He cannot use for good, and He has outdone himself in our lives. Growth and learning always follow adversity, and to have faith is to be assured that divine good will ultimately outweigh earthly struggles.
The happy ending
Last week, Jim began a fantastic new job at a Memphis-based company. It’s essentially a raise, a promotion, and carries the added perk of an I-240-free commute each morning. Next week I’ll celebrate my 55th birthday. Yes, in my kids’ eyes, and probably many of yours, that’s old. But I like to say that no cancer survivor ever complains about getting older. Each year is another year of life that cancer didn’t take away.
Another year of wisdom — and 365 more days of new mercies.
Funk has at least three meanings: it is defined as a genre of music, a foul smell, or a dejected mood. I’m kind of familiar with the first definition, all-too acquainted with the second (we have dogs, remember?) and am currently experiencing the third.
I’ve thought twice about writing about this, because I like to stay positive, I try not to moan about my (mostly first-world) problems, and, as a person of faith, I sometimes expect myself to be brimming with joy at every moment.
That’s a load of crap.
We all have adversity; Jim and I, like everyone else, have endured our share, from serious illness to loss, and, now, unemployment. And though I do have an underlying peace, that doesn’t mean I feel like smiling all the time. In fact, recently I haven’t felt like smiling at all. I’m seriously bummed out for three reasons:
Job. Blah, blah. Jim hasn’t found anything yet, which isn’t surprising or even particularly concerning. He’s at a higher level than he was last time he searched for a job, and those jobs are harder to come by. I know he’ll land somewhere awesome. I’m just ready for it to happen. Now. It’s hard on him not to have an office to go to every day — somehow, the Office of Transition (aka, our increasingly cluttered dining room) just isn’t the same.
Stress. He’s stressed, I’m stressed … everyone knows about stress. I find myself much more easily overwhelmed these days, and it gets worse when things pile on. Having to put Molly to sleep, a stupid branch that fell on our roof and cost $200 to remove, and the computer Jim uses, which is much better at displaying the spinning beach ball than loading a Web page; little things, big things, medium-size things. They all add up to make us want to scream.
Pain. I’m not just talking about psychic pain, though there’s plenty of that. I have a long-standing herniated cervical disk that has begun to bother me again. And by bother I mean torment. It’s nearly impossible to sleep because every position hurts, and it’s torpedoed my summer running program. Lack of sleep brings irritability, inability to focus on a task, and discouragement at my low level of productivity.
I share all of this to say that sometimes we need to trust others enough to be transparent, to be real, to stop saying, “I’m fine” when we’re really not. I have people in my life who like/love me whether I’m wearing my happy face or not, and if you’re one of those, I’m grateful. If you’re not, well, you probably stopped reading at the third definition of funk.
OK, the thought vomiting expression of frustration is over now. I realize and appreciate how blessed we are to have amazing supportive friends and family, not to mention faith. I think otherwise we’d have both lost it for good by now.
This past Sunday we were at an outdoor event, and after a brief summer thunderstorm, there was a lovely rainbow, which I realized only comes after the rain.
We’re still standing. And if you made it this far, you’re awesome. Thank you.
The season could not have come at a better time — especially now, when we’re not going out much anywhere, due to the unemployment thing. One of our simple pleasures is putting our feet up and ending the day with the Cardinals on TV, win or lose.
Last weekend, my sister gave us tickets to see the Redbirds. We’re big fans, as we’ve watched many current Cardinals members play at AutoZone Park. This night was especially exciting, as Cardinal third baseman and 2011 World Series MVP David Freese was playing in Memphis on a rehab assignment.
Cardinal third baseman David Freese on deck
Yeah, these seats are good.
Freese at bat just before whacking an RBI double
So as we’re enjoying the game, I glance over to our right, in the area behind home plate. I notice two young guys with a clipboard, apparently keeping pitching statistics. I recognize one of them as Michael Wacha, top pitching prospect for the Cardinals. This guy will most likely be on the mound at Busch Stadium by the end of the season. I didn’t immediately recognize the other guy, but realized he was Tyler Lyons, also a pitcher.
Wacha (left) and Tyler Lyons signing autographs for us
They were very nice and seemed genuinely happy to be recognized. We chatted with them a bit, and wished Wacha good luck pitching on Sunday.
So, a beautiful night for baseball, a chance to see a Cardinal hit a double and two autographs to add to our collection.
We’re perfectly happy hanging out and eating at home and living a simpler life. But a gift like baseball tickets gave us a tremendous boost; a chance to enjoy a night out and feel normal for just a short while. We looked forward to it all week and relished it all evening.
Do you know someone going through a rough time? Think about a gift of something they really like to do.
Y’all are going to think there is something wrong with me.
So a few caveats are in order before I tell this story:
I’m an intelligent, educated woman, and have, in the past, supported myself quite well.
I am not a backwards ninny who has to ask her husband’s permission to do things.
Jim and I are equal partners and everything is an open book. Passwords, text messages, email and all the analog stuff.
When Jim was RIF’d* a couple of weeks ago, he was handed a large envelope just before he was escorted out of the building. In the envelope (and I’m speculating here) were some papers he had to sign, insurance information, and an outline of the severance package.
Of course, I was eager to know about the severance, and that’s one of the first things I asked him when he got home that day. He told me he hadn’t looked at it, and wasn’t ready to. I respected that and decided I’d let him just do that on his own time.
A couple of days passed, and he hadn’t mentioned the envelope, so I didn’t either. I wanted to know about the severance package, but still wanted to respect his timing. After a few days, when he didn’t bring it up, I started to ask him, then realized something.
It doesn’t matter.
Our security is not in the number on that check. There is nothing in our lives that really matters that can be taken away by anything that’s on — or not on — that check.
Jim knows the number and, more importantly, God knows the number.
In this post, I talked about how I think it’s cool that this happened during Lent. So I decided to give up my need to know about the money for Lent. Not just my need to know, but my need to try to control, to get things done under my own steam. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not in la-la-la denial land. We’re not spending a penny on anything other than necessities and I’m working as hard as I can and have several freelance projects lined up in addition to my job. Jim is doing his networking ninja thing that he does ridiculously well.
What I will not do is stress and worry about it.
Because all we can do is all we can do. The rest we cannot control. It is in the hands of the Wise One.
So I still have no idea what the severance package is. I know that I can ask Jim any time and he’ll tell me, but I’m not going to. I’m going to remind myself that:
Who we are, how we are and where our hearts are have nothing to do with dollars.
Though we don’t know how and we don’t know when, God knows every detail of the next opportunity. He’ll tell us when it’s time. So not asking Jim about the check is practice for waiting on God, which my often-impatient self surely needs.
Wherever He takes us, we won’t be alone. If it’s a great new job, He’ll be with us. If it’s … not, He’ll be with us there, too and wherever He leads us, there will be goodness. His goodness, not necessarily human goodness.
Now, that does not mean we can’t use your prayers, and we certainly appreciate a heads-up on any opportunities you may know of, or folks he should talk to.
But if you think we’re smiling more than we should be, it’s not because we’re faking it, or just too dumb to know better.
It’s because God is very, very real and He knows far better.
*Remember, that’s an acronymn for reduction in force, as the kids are calling layoffs these days.
We’re about two weeks into the unemployment and, of course, there are big changes around here. Some good, some not so good. I wrote about it last week.
Bad news first:
We’re in only-spend-money-on-necessities mode. That means no extras; no restaurants, no clothes shopping and no hair appointments. Very first-world-problems. I know. Almost ridiculously so. In fact, I’m a little ashamed.
Good news:
The smell of coffee in the house in the mornings. I love the smell of coffee — just don’t make me drink the stuff. Jim loves coffee and does the whole bean grinding thing and it smells heavenly.
More time together. It’s kind of nice having him around more. We have more time to just sit and talk. He’s available to do things like come with me to hear me speak to a class about my work.
We get to work together. There’s really not much I can do to help him, except use my gifts and abilities to do things that enhance his networking abilities. Which includes helping him write a cover letter, and putting up this website to highlight his experience and qualifications. And I’ve taught him about things like Dropbox and Google Drive, which is kinda fun.
The next opportunity is going to rock. We’ve been through this before and ended up with a much better position with much better pay. We’re confident that this time it’ll work out for the best as well.
We’re in only-spend-money-on-necessities mode. Yeah, that’s also good news. It’s not a negative thing, especially during Lent, to contemplate what we truly need, rather than what we want. I wish I could say that by our own choice, we’ve stepped back from the daily luxuries we enjoy, but we needed some … encouragement.
Notice there’s only really one bit of bad news, among so much good. And that bad news is also good news. The positive outweighs the negative, and when you strip away the extras, what’s left are the things of true value — people, relationships, time together and all that we will learn from this experience.
We really do believe Romans 8:28:
We know that God works all things together for good for the ones who love God, for those who are called according to his purpose.
We believe that means all things; not just the ones we think are good things, but all things.
Earlier this week, I wrote about Jim’s sudden layoff this past Tuesday morning. One of the things that made it difficult was that he and the others were asked to leave the building immediately and make arrangements to pick up personal effects after business hours.
So today was Clean Out the Office Day. It hasn’t been something we’ve looked forward to, but I’ve been hoping it would provide some closure. I offered to go with Jim to get his things, but I wasn’t sure whether he’d like the idea or not – every time we try to clean up/declutter at home, we end up in a fight polite disagreement over what should stay and what should go.
No disagreements this time; it actually wasn’t that unpleasant and almost … fun.
I think we both feel relieved and there is a good sense of closure. And I’ve been reminded of three things:
When you have something difficult to do, it’s great not to have to do it alone. I think my presence made it easier for Jim — I was little or no physical help, but I’m pretty good at throwing things into boxes and I did encourage him to throw away some unnecessary stuff he might have been tempted to bring home.
No matter how bad things are, finding something to laugh about makes it just a little better. We can pretty much always find something funny, even if it’s just making fun of the ugly paneling (see below).
You really cannot move on until you have cleaned up after yourself. Get rid of the junk, keep what will be beneficial in the future. A true fresh start requires a good clean break. Clean out and move on.
For the word of the Lord is right and true; He is faithful in all he does. Psalm 33:4
For the past few months, I have been thanking God for His provision and His faithfulness as Jim searches for a new job. It has been stressful, scary and has worn on us as a family at times. Even so, I always felt an underlying peace that God would bring us through this and that He would use it, perhaps just to teach us to trust Him more completely.
This past Friday (April 20) Jim signed an offer letter for a new job. We are thrilled and so very thankful. It’s a great opportunity and allows us to stay in Memphis, which we all wanted very much. But make no mistake: I don’t thank Him for His faithfulness because he provided the job; He was faithful before Jim got the job, and He would still be faithful if there were still no job.
When I was growing up, and I’d ask my parents for something I wanted, sometimes (usually) they would say yes and sometimes they would say no. My Dad was a very generous person, so when he said no, there was a reason. I never got the trampoline I begged for because my Dad saw so many kids with broken bones in his orthodontic office who answered trampoline when he asked them how it happened. I wasn’t happy that I didn’t get the trampoline, but I knew that my Dad meant it only for my own good and I never doubted his love for me, or whether he cared or would provide for me. And, even if I think completely materialistically, he gave me nearly everything else I ever wanted. Not only were they faithful, they were generous as well.
I think that’s what I learned about God through all of this — that He doesn’t show Himself faithful by what he does for us — that is His generosity; He shows Himself faithful by walking through it all with us. He never promised us ease, comfort, affluence or freedom from stress, but He did promise He would never leave our side. And if He had, I know that I would not have survived with my sanity intact.
Even on the worst days, during the two-month stretch when there was just nothing to even apply for, I never doubted that He was there and that it would eventually be ok. What if His will had been no job at all — if His will for us meant that we would lose our house, cars, all the stuff? I still would not doubt His faithfulness. Though it would not have been my preference, He brought me to the point that I could be ok with that.
His faithfulness has given me comfort, peace and security, and His generosity has given extra measures of joy — some are short bursts, others are lasting, but all are meaningful. Consider:
Encouragement from friends — lunches, phone calls and emails
Friends and family who understood when Christmas was just a hug and a promise of a later gift
Retail therapy (thanks, Mom!) which cannot buy happiness but sure can lift the spirit.
Dinners out, as restaurant meals were the first thing cut from our post-employment budget
A tremendous network of caring, loving, Christian friends who diligently lifted us up in prayer.
My role at home — I have for a long time felt a call to be home full-time, and my prayer was that I would be able to continue in this role. Not only did God grant me this, He did so with complete peace on my part and Jim’s. Jim never asked me to try to find work, and God continually confirmed my decision, though to some I admit it must have seemed illogical. I’m so glad God doesn’t operate by human logic!
So now we get to return to normal. I wonder what our new normal will look like. I guess time will tell. But for now I’m looking forward to my first professional haircut since November, new glasses and getting the refrigerator fixed so it doesn’t leak all over the kitchen floor.
Lillie Ammann, writer & editor, on her blog A Writer’s Words, An Editor’s Eye poses an interesting question about finding the right balance in life. I’m honored that she tagged me for a response, but I’m not sure that my answer will be as meaningful as perhaps Lillie had hoped.
I love gymnastics — in fact I used to be a pretty good tumbler myself. Believe it or not, this photo is of me in my younger days, practicing my back layout in the high school gym. I thought nothing of throwing myself through the air upside down, in fact I enjoyed it more than anything else during those years. As easily as I could throw a backflip on the floor, I never tried it on the balance beam. The thought of having only a four-inch strip of wood to land on made something I could do in my sleep seem terrifying. I never had faith enough in my own ability to plant my feet exactly where they needed to land.
It took a lot of concentration and energy to walk that thin line between standing and falling. I knew that if I fell, at worst I could be seriously injured; at best I would be embarrassed. I believe that trying to maintain balance during difficult times is a lot like walking a balance beam; there is a lot at stake, and if you don’t keep your focus, you will surely fall. In this difficult time of our lives (my husband’s position was eliminated at the end of last year and he’s still searching for a job), I’ve simply tried to keep the focus where I know it should be and keep from falling on my head!
How do you achieve balance in your life?
My time decisions are really easy, given the fact that I know my youngest daughter will leave for college in just three years. She is in school during the day, so I leave that time open for church and volunteer work, meetings, Bible study, and just time for myself. After-school time is hers, and evenings are for family time, unless there is something very important that just cannot be scheduled any other time. She has an active social life, so my husband and I plan our own social outings around that.
What is your biggest challenge in balancing your life?
Wanting to do everything. I have such a wide variety of interests, I am often in danger of spreading myself too thin.
What are your priorities?
This one is easy. 1. My faith 2. My family 3. Friends 4. Professional development/career goals
How have your priorities changed over time and why?
The only time I can say my priorities have really changed was when I first got married and again when I had my first child. Becoming a wife and, later a mother, completely took the focus off of me in my life. When I was single, I spent every spare dollar on clothes, going out, whatever I wanted. Then I got married and had my daughter a little more than a year after that. Suddenly I didn’t care what I wore, but it mattered a lot that she had beautiful clothes. Sad to say, It was the first time in my life that I actually thought about someone else’s needs before my own.
Basically for the past 13 years I have pretty much focused on #1 and #2, doing the best I can with #3, and, for the most part, working #4 in around #1 – 3. I know that I’ll have time when my youngest daughter (now 15) goes to college in a few short years.
What advice can you share to help all of us balance our own lives?
I’m probably not the one to give advice on that; my life is in a bit of turmoil right now with my husband’s job situation. But my faith is literally sustaining me right now, and my focus has been to keep things going here at home so we can ride out this storm. I’m giving my 15-year-old as much of me as possible, as it has been such a hard year for her with her sister leaving for college and my husband’s job loss — trying to keep home stabilized and provide safety and security for her.
I guess my only advice would be to go back to priority #1 — keep your faith strong, and it will sustain you through anything, and keep you balanced when your circumstances are out of balance.
For the word of the Lord is right and true; He is faithful in all He does. Psalm 33:4
Here we are in mid-March and still no job. Back in November, when I first posted about the job situation, (We are OK) I felt confident and sure of God’s faithfulness and care in our need. I knew that He would see us through this crisis and that His plan for us was greater than anything we ever could have imagined.
And I have to admit that I hoped He would accomplish it quickly. I know that given today’s climate in corporate America, our search is relatively short. Layoffs are all too common these days at Jim’s level; in fact one colleague told him that very few executives get through an entire career without at least one layoff, particularly those who work for large public corporations.
So recently I have asked myself this question: I was sure, confident and faithful in November — am I still sure and confident when our prayers haven’t been answered as soon as we would have liked? I was sure when, by earthly standards, we were secure in our nice six-month severance package. Am I still sure when it’s now only a three-month severance package? Do I still trust Him?
The answer is — a qualified yes. Not a qualified yes because I doubt Him, but because I doubt me. Because I still freak out from time to time. When I think of this situation in earthly terms, I am insecure, because here on earth that security is measured in dollars, in my house, my car, my stuff. Stuff that could be gone in the blink of an eye anyway.
But despite my human frailty and weakness, the answer really is, yes, I am still sure, confident and faithful. Because I know that my real security is not in dollars, houses, cars, stuff — thank goodness because, frankly, we don’t have a lot of really great stuff.
My security is in God and His kingdom, and I’m up for whatever challenge He presents me with. Worst case — I lose all the stuff, and it really is just stuff. Just look what I get to keep: beautiful sunsets and sunrises, the love of my family, God’s grace and forgiveness poured out on me anew each day, and a place in eternity with Him. So I’m thinking, yes, I do still trust. What else can I do?
Your kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, and your dominion endures through all generations. The Lord is faithful to all his promises and loving toward all he has made. The Lord upholds all those who fall and lifts up all who are bowed down. The eyes of all look to you, and you give them their food at the proper time. You open your hand and satisfy the desires of every living thing. Psalm 145:13-16
I hate to wait. I hate to wait in line, I hate to wait on the phone. When I was young, I hated to wait for Christmas morning. I knew there was really good stuff under the tree and I didn’t want to wait for it. I wanted it now. I am 48 years old and I still hate to wait. When I call someone, I want them to answer — if they don’t answer, I want them to call me back soon. If there are more than two people ahead of me in line at the grocery store, I dash over to the self-check line and probably take three times as long to look up the little number code for ginger root — all because I hate to wait. My beautiful Macintosh G5 tower has dual processors and 2.5 GB of RAM, but when it takes more than 15 seconds to open a 90MB Photoshop file, I get impatient.
So as we are nearing the end of January with no job offer, I grow tired of waiting. I had hoped that we would have an offer by mid-December, and that Jim would begin his new job by the beginning of 2007. Then Elizabeth could go back to college to begin the spring semester, Sara Ann would know where she will finish high school and we could all start the new year with things settled.
But look at verse 15 in the Psalm: the proper time. It does not say by January 1, 2007. It does not say, whenever you feel that the time is right. It especially does not say, when you get tired of waiting and begin to lose patience.
No — it says, “The Lord upholds all those who fall and lifts up all who are bowed down. The eyes of all look to you, and you give them their food at the proper time. You open your hand and satisfy the desires of every living thing.”
That really hit me between the eyes tonight. We were talking at the dinner table about how — even though we have peace about the job, we have faith, we know that God is in control and that He has it figured out, we are tired of waiting! Like Christmas morning, I know that what He has in store for us will be exciting, but I want to open it now.
I get so frustrated with my kids when they get hungry while I’m making dinner and they start raiding the pantry. As i work to prepare good, healthy, satisfying food that will nourish their bodies, they grab junk food to snack on in their impatience to wait. I have thought about the meal we will share at our table, I have carefully selected it especially for them, tailored it to their individual tastes; yet they settle for the crap in the pantry rather than wait for what I have prepared for them.
So I think now that my prayer will be that I will have patience to wait for the goodness He is at work preparing for us right now. Not to take matters into my own hands and settle for junk, but to wait for the real blessings that await me at His table.
It was nearly two weeks ago that Jim was informed that his position will be eliminated as of 12/31. He works for an international Fortune 500 company, with sales of $26 billion, that has seen more than its share of downsizing and outsourcing over the past several years. So while not entirely unexpected, the confirmation of our concerns over the past few months was nevertheless a blow.
Through the years, our family has been extravagantly blessed — we will celebrate 20 years of marriage later this month; 20 years of commitment, love, friendship and a shared sense of calling to our highest mission — the spiritual growth and development of our two girls. God has used us in spite of our many weaknesses, mistakes and failures to shape them into bright, beautiful, gifted, fun-loving and (usually!) delightful human beings whose hearts belong first and foremost to Him.
He has comforted us in the loss of those we have deeply loved and guided us through uncertain and anxious times. We have trusted Him with major decisions, serious illnesses and the daily stress, anxiety and worries that accompany life with teenage girls. We trust that in this transition He will be faithful as He has been before.
— My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness. “Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.” 2 Corinthians 12:9-10
When things are going well, we have the illusion of strength and security. It is not until we encounter a situation that is completely outside our control that we are forced to acknowledge that we are truly powerless. Nothing has really changed except our own mindset; we are not any less secure than we were when things were going smoothly; the only difference is that we now realize it! So — now that we have been reminded that we are weak, we can boast in our weakness and find peace and comfort in His strength.
Because we know that His grace is sufficient, we can choose to be free from worry about the future. That doesn’t mean that there is no fear or stress, or that there aren’t tears, discouragement and frustration; it doesn’t even mean that, knowing His goodness and faithfulness, we always do choose to be free from worry. There are good days and bad days.
What I do know for certain, though, is that, as I like to tell my kids, God’s plans for us have already been put into place. He had it figured out before we were born. He has answered the questions, done the deal, dotted every i and crossed every t. And He will reveal His plan to us on His timetable, not on our own. We are not called to understand His timing, just to trust Him and to do our best with the gifts He has given us.
Last week we heard a sermon from Sam, our former senior pastor. He preached from Daniel 3, (which is also what I’ve been studying in my Thursday morning Bible study) the story of Shadrach, Meschach and Abednego in the fiery furnace. The three men were thrown into the furnace by King Nebuchadnezzar because they would not worship the king’s idol. They could have avoided their fate by one simple act: bowing down to the idol. But they refused to take the easy way out; though they faced an agonizing death, they allowed themselves to be bound and faced the furnace. Here is what they said:
“O Nebuchadnezzar, we do not need to defend ourselves before you in this matter. If we are thrown into the blazing furnace, the God we serve is able to save us from it, and he will rescue us from your hand, O king. But even if he does not, we want you to know, O king, that we will not serve your gods or worship the image of gold you have set up.” Daniel 3:16-18
They knew that God was able to deliver them from death; but they trusted Him even if he chose not to. And we all know the end of the story; they survived the furnace without even the smell of smoke on their clothing (v.27). We also know that there was a fourth man in the fire with them, whom many Bible experts believe to be Jesus. And the three men went on to prosper as they never had before and the king decreed that all would worship the one true God.
Sam said it so much better than I ever could, but the point is that Shadrach, Meschach and Abednego trusted completely, even to the point of death, not knowing if God would deliver them or not. What blessings would they have missed if they had sought to save their lives and avoid the furnace? The nation would have continued to worship a worthless statue and the three probably would not have been promoted to the lofty positions they achieved.
So, maybe we are in the furnace now. But we are not alone. There is a “fourth man” right here with us. And although it’s scary, I really don’t like heat at all, and an easy way out could be really nice right now, there will be blessings on the other side that are immeasurably more satisfying than earthly security.
Please pray for us; pray for patience, strength, guidance. But don’t worry about us — there really is no need — we are already rejoicing in the good that will come from this trial as we trust in His perfect will.
For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future. Jeremiah 29:11
