Tuesday, September 08, 2009
Silver Linings
I had an unusual experience last night that ought not to be unusual. The very fact that it wasn't normal for my life says a great deal about me, I think. And I don't necessarily like it.
As supper ended, the power died. Once again. In fact, earlier when I got home from my morning's 5 hour meeting, it had been out for most of the day and continued to be out until 3-ish. So, this was a second cut. And dusk was well in progress.
Well, Jane and I left the dishes, hoping power would come back eventually before we'd risk opening the fridge to put away left overs. Instead, we went to our battery-operated electronic entertainment center. The laptop! (We also have a portable DVD player, but I'd apparently plugged it into a bad outlet on the power strip.) So one episode of Monk later, Jony having returned from playing soccer in the dark, we faced the problem of what next. The computer battery was running low.
Well, we have candles and we have a hand-crank LED flashlight. And we all love to read. The only problem was that there are only two unread novels in the house at the moment. And three of us. So there I was, sitting next to the screen door of the balcony (yes, above that mysterious Winnebago) enjoying a cool breeze. Jane was next to me in Dan Mulay's wonderful recliner on loan to us for the year, reading Orson Scott Card by candle light. And Jony was on his nice cool water bed reading another Card novel.
And I thought, "Maybe I'll just sit here and think."
And I did. And you'd think that would be easy. Natural. But I had no paper and pen to jot down outlines of thought. Candle light just wasn't enough for that somehow. I had no computer to link me to others thoughts or to do research. I had no writing of any sort to order my mind.
Wow. Why was this so hard? I complained to Jane about power cuts and squirmed.
Yet, I don't know why, but I persisted and soon found myself going back over in my mind the lessons I've so far reviewed for this course I'll teach at the end of October. It's a translation into French of a course that I found really helpful in my own life. I did it in a school context (night Bible school) in 2000. I've been invited to do it again in another country for some pastors. So I'm reviewing my own notes and also the original in English.
Anyway, what came as a shock was that I could pull up the content of these 5 lessons in my head and start to consider how to organize this week long seminar. Just sitting there. Without props. I visualized the daily time slots. I calculated the number of hours I'd need per lesson. I pulled up the various bits and actually "thought."
As supper ended, the power died. Once again. In fact, earlier when I got home from my morning's 5 hour meeting, it had been out for most of the day and continued to be out until 3-ish. So, this was a second cut. And dusk was well in progress.
Well, Jane and I left the dishes, hoping power would come back eventually before we'd risk opening the fridge to put away left overs. Instead, we went to our battery-operated electronic entertainment center. The laptop! (We also have a portable DVD player, but I'd apparently plugged it into a bad outlet on the power strip.) So one episode of Monk later, Jony having returned from playing soccer in the dark, we faced the problem of what next. The computer battery was running low.Well, we have candles and we have a hand-crank LED flashlight. And we all love to read. The only problem was that there are only two unread novels in the house at the moment. And three of us. So there I was, sitting next to the screen door of the balcony (yes, above that mysterious Winnebago) enjoying a cool breeze. Jane was next to me in Dan Mulay's wonderful recliner on loan to us for the year, reading Orson Scott Card by candle light. And Jony was on his nice cool water bed reading another Card novel.
And I thought, "Maybe I'll just sit here and think."And I did. And you'd think that would be easy. Natural. But I had no paper and pen to jot down outlines of thought. Candle light just wasn't enough for that somehow. I had no computer to link me to others thoughts or to do research. I had no writing of any sort to order my mind.
Wow. Why was this so hard? I complained to Jane about power cuts and squirmed.
Yet, I don't know why, but I persisted and soon found myself going back over in my mind the lessons I've so far reviewed for this course I'll teach at the end of October. It's a translation into French of a course that I found really helpful in my own life. I did it in a school context (night Bible school) in 2000. I've been invited to do it again in another country for some pastors. So I'm reviewing my own notes and also the original in English.
Anyway, what came as a shock was that I could pull up the content of these 5 lessons in my head and start to consider how to organize this week long seminar. Just sitting there. Without props. I visualized the daily time slots. I calculated the number of hours I'd need per lesson. I pulled up the various bits and actually "thought."
"Every cloud has its silver lining." I don't know who said it first. Paul was a bit more restrictive in Romans 8. He noted that for God's people, the complications of this world always work to our good, even if not to our pleasure.
I have to say that I enjoyed thinking in the dark. Thank you, Lord, for that power cut. But I must also say that today as I ponder the experience, I wonder why it isn't part of my normal life. And should it be. Are those props of paper and pencil and writing a problem?
And if I was imprisoned and stripped of my props, would I crumble? Or would I be like that Gene Wilder character who was thrown into isolation in "the box" as punishment in Stir Crazy? When finally released, he asked for more time because he was enjoying the solitude so much.
Oh, speaking of this course, as I review the original course, I keep finding real gems of teaching. Here is one from Rosemary Miller, from a talk that I have on tape somewhere. It's a terribly disorganized lecture. She's not a teacher or a speaker, really. And the first time I listened to this talk a dozen years ago, it drove me crazy. But soon I came to appreciate the wisdom in the bits that were so haphazardly strung together. And it hit me again yesterday afternoon and motivated me to walk out to the computer and use some battery power to copy it for you!
Rosemary's daughter rebelled and ran away and rejected all that her parents believed in.
...I want to take you with me through our journey with Barbara ...First of all, when something like this happens, you blame others. Then I felt like I was the victim because I thought I had done everything I should have for this child growing up. Then it turned into self-pity and sorrow for myself. You get locked into that, and you can't move out of it unless the Spirit just brings the deeper conviction of sin in our lives. It took a while, but finally I was ready to hear what the “verdict” was. My real sin against Barbara was that I didn't reach her conscience. I didn't try to. I was really concerned about outward behavior, thinking that if I worked on the outward behavior, it would work inward. It never works that way. You work on the inward behavior and then the outward behavior will come. I built the house without a door. I didn't have the Gospel working in my own heart and therefore there was no way I could communicate this to her. I presented the Gospel like the Law, and I wasn't broken before her. When one of us finally broke eight years later, she could hear it. Kids can hear it when your heart is broken before them. They can't hear it if you come on really strong with truth presented as, “This is what you must do. This is what you must believe. This is how you must behave.”
"I built the house without a door." I don't know if she is quoting someone, but I find that image very powerful. For me as a follower of Jesus, the One who talked so much about the heart, it's not enough to seek to mold the outside of my child well. I should know better. It doesn't work for me personally. I need my heart transformed daily and I know it. Why would I think others are different and just work on behavior?
Rosemary's story has a "happy" ending and, in fact, the pain of her failure with her daughter was critical for helping Rosemary look at herself honestly. A silver lining.
Still, I want to be wise. The Gospel transforms, not the Law. Truth and correct ideas of right and wrong help me see my own heart clearly if I am brave enough. But only when I take my own brokenness and guilt to the One who has a solution am I going to be changed.
