When They're Driving You Crazy

     Some people chew really loudly. Other people have one of those voices that drives you crazy. Let's not even talk about nail-biting, leaving clothes in the dryer, taking your stuff without asking, and leaving the remote buried somewhere in the couch cushions. The more you get to know people, the more they can make you want to beat your head against a wall.
     Did you know that there is actually a disorder label for people who can't stand certain sounds? It's called Misophonia. Personally, I can't wait for the disorder label I can use to justify eating pounds of chocolate and gallons of coffee.
     In his book The Screwtape Letters, C.S. Lewis addressed how Satan can use our tendency to get easily bothered by the little habits of others, like leaving the toilet seat up, to cause us to sin against them. When you think about it, it makes a whole lot of sense. The book is a series of letters from a senior demon to an apprentice. Their correspondence is about ruining the life of the apprentice's human 'patient.' The older wiser one said, "When two humans have lived together for many years it usually happens that each has tones of voice and expressions of face which are almost unendurably irritating to the other. Work on that. Bring fully into the consciousness of your patient that particular lift of his mother's eyebrows which he learned to dislike in the nursery, and let him think how much he dislikes it. Let him assume that she knows how annoying it is and does it to annoy--if you know your job he will not notice the immense improbability of the assumption. And, of course, never let him suspect that he has tones and looks which similarly annoy her" (13).
     Do you have siblings? I can tell what you might be thinking. Pastor Jason, you don't know my brother. He really does annoy me on purpose. He gets a sick little pleasure out of making me want to tear my hair out. Are there people like this? Yes. I'll grant you that. But, in your situation is it not possible there are things that annoy him about you that cause him to antagonize?
     The Bible makes it clear that we are very good at picking out the faults of others and very bad at noticing our own. Jesus talked about this in his Sermon on the Mount. One person tries to criticize someone else for something petty and small while failing to see how horrible he or she is behaving themself (Mt. 7:1-6).
     How can we avoid getting stuck in this trap of Satan? First, we must realize that our Enemy loves nothing better than seeing people set against one another for any reason whatsoever. He is the sower of discord. He hates it when Christians dwell together in unity. Secondly, we must develop the ability to honestly and lovingly talk to each other about what annoys us. If we wait till whatever it is has driven us half-mad over the course of several weeks we will probably blow up at them instead of addressing it calmly. Finally, we have to force ourselves to admit that for everything someone does to annoy us (whether on purpose or unintentionally) there is probably at least one thing we do that frustrates them to no end. We can't expect others to work on their habits if we aren't willing to work on ours.
     So, the next time your mom uses that tone that frustrates the heck out of you, ask yourself this question: Have I ever used a tone with her that might be annoying? Start working on your own tone and then you can see clearly to talk respectfully to her about hers.

When the Pieces Don't Fit

     I read somewhere that our brains are like the muscles of our body. We have to exercise them or they turn to mush. There are almost limitless ways to keep this mushiness from happening. Some turn to crossword puzzles. Eh, not for me. Others turn to adventure video games. Still, others turn to Sudoku. If you don’t know what that means I can’t help you.

Our brain strengthening strategy has included puzzles. We like some of them more than others. Puzzles that have large sections with one pattern and color are annoying. I like nature scenes, personally. If we finish the puzzle we step back with a sense of accomplishment. Some of us should feel it more since not all of us worked on it as long. 

There are other kinds of puzzles that can be just as, if not more difficult to solve. We don’t need a quarantine to know that the events and challenges of our lives don’t always seem to fit what we’ve been taught. When we read our Bibles, for instance, we see that Jesus says, “I will never leave you, nor forsake you.” (Mt. 28:20). Yet, there are occasions where we feel desperately alone. If our Savior is there in those moments it seems he must be hiding very well. That’s the way it feels to me, anyway.

Sometimes we wonder why we have been made the way God made us. Some of you may feel like you don’t fit in your family or school. You feel like that piece of the puzzle that made its way into the wrong box. Teenagers, as well as adults, can easily convince themselves that they would be much happier in a different puzzle. There are those of us who think the puzzle we are in won’t amount to much. So, we get restless and speak negatively to those around us about our puzzle. Why do we do this? I think it’s true that misery loves company. But, if we have to make other people feel uncomfortable belonging to a puzzle to feel companionship we have not really loved them. We have been selfish.

What about the times when loved ones get sick? What about when we face health trials? What if we feel ugly? What if your prayers aren’t answered? The Bible says, “Ask and it will be given unto you, seek and you shall find, knock and the door will be opened unto you.” And “Whatever you ask for, in my name, it will be given to you.” What do you do when you’ve prayed and prayed that the pain would stop—but it doesn’t. What about when your parents just won’t stop fighting and they wonder why you want to wear noise-canceling headphones as you walk around the house? These pieces just don't seem to make sense. They don't fit.

Perhaps the worst cases are the ones where we know exactly where we fit in the puzzle and we just don’t want to be placed there. We can tell that fitting where we are designed to fit will not bring comfort, but pain. It will not bring popularity, but ridicule and a sense of deep deep loneliness. The Bible has a metaphor for it: “The valley of the shadow of death.” David knew such valleys. His life must have been very puzzling to him. He was the anointed king of Israel, but he was forced to hide in caves to keep from getting murdered. He could have tried to recut the puzzle of his life so it made sense, but he trusted that God had a plan and placed him in a puzzle that was confusing at the time, but just right in hindsight. 

Jesus knew what puzzle he chose to fit in. He said that he came “to seek and to save the lost.” Isaiah said he would be “a man of sorrows.” I can picture him in the garden the night he was betrayed. The puzzle was almost complete. Our Lord was not puzzled. He knew how the pieces needed to fit together. Yet, he was reluctant as he prayed. He asked for the puzzle to remain unfinished but found strength in envisioning the completed puzzle. “For the joy set before him, he endured the cross, despising its shame, and sat down at the right hand of the throne of God.”

Jesus knows how to arrange the pieces of the puzzle of your life. All the things that don’t make sense; Jesus knows where those pieces fit. He designed the box lid that you can’t see. He knows what the completed picture will look like before you even have two pieces linked together. The question is, will you trust him?

“For I know the plans I have for you, declares the LORD, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans for a hope and a future.”   —Jeremiah 29:11

Be Still and Know

     Have you noticed anything different about your home since the Coronavirus invaded? I’ve come to appreciate the talent of the painter that sponged swirly patterns on the ceiling above the couch in my living room.  The swirl pattern ends with a special flourish that gives it artistic flare. It’s remarkably consistent throughout the house.
     Thirty slats make up the window blinds in my bedroom. Yes, I counted them. The north-facing windows cast light on at least 19 photos of our kids. There may be more but I just can’t bring myself to move from being propped up to a sitting position in bed.
     The trains from Covington and Cincinnati sound their horns at 5am to make sure the tracks are clear. There aren’t any tracks in my town that I’m aware of, so the sound is faint.
     If it’s a sunny day, my neighbor behind my house will mow with his lawn tractor—but not until the sun dips below the horizon. He retired years ago so he’s been home all day, but he chooses dusk to crank up his John Deere. He zooms around his trees and lawn ornaments with his lights on. At least that’s been his practice since the grass woke up this spring.
     I’ve been very sleep deprived so I can only hope that what I write makes some sense. I’d like to think that my observations about my home and neighborhood—like the fact that there are at least 9 dogs in my cul-de-sac—aren’t just some crazy ramblings of someone with way too much sit-around time. I want them to prove that somehow I can still make sense of my surroundings.
     On an average April day I wouldn’t care a lick about anything I’ve just mentioned, but while I’m laid aside with an injury and my family is all home due to social distancing recommendations I’ve come to appreciate the little things more. I’ve had to slow down to notice them.
     Americans like loud music, fast cars, fast food, and busy schedules. Whenever we get a moment where our attention doesn’t have to be on something specific we can be found mindlessly swiping our thumbs across our smartphones. “Downtime” has been replaced by “screen time” and I think we are worse for it.
     If you asked if I have learned anything over the past month I’d have to top the list with Psalm 46:10. It says, “Be still and know that I am God.” When does someone need to be told to be still? When they’re too loud and too fidgety; too frantic and too distracted. But if we will yield to the call we will get a sense of something that’s hard to notice with AirPods and Instagram. What is it? Knowledge of God.
     Information about God is one thing. Knowing deep down that God is always present, that he is love, that he is true and faithful. These things can be acknowledged with a passing nod in the distracted high volume world we live in. But, only those who can tear themselves away from it come to “know” that he really is the “friend that sticks closer than a brother” (Pr. 18:24).
     Discovering the detail around my home is one thing, but discovering the voice of God in the whispers of his word in the night; his calming voice in the Psalms; the poetry of pain in the book of Job all come running to us in the stillness. Those who experience it soon find that they crave it more and more.

Stephen Curtis Chapman has known great joy and suffering. He wrote a song called, "Be Still and Know" that's well worth a listen: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=BgaHaioAjyg

What Pets Can Teach Us During the Coronavirus

About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the prisoners were listening to them.

                               --Acts 16:25

     We have two cats, but I’m not a cat person. Ever since the day we discovered that I’m allergic to them I’ve looked at them as the enemy of my health. Do you like cats? I’m willing to admit that some cats are okay.

Ginny

     Last night we put both cats outside. The weather was warm, so we didn't think it would do them any harm. Ginny took the opportunity to explore, hunt, and exercise. She loves to catch things and bring them to the back door or stash them in her collection under the deck. The latest unfortunate creature she added was a short snake. It was slightly less cute than the large-eared gray and white mouse she brought us a couple of nights ago. We are waiting for that terrible day when she proudly presents us with the gift of a dead baby bird from the nest in the maple tree. So, it's reasonably safe to say that Ginny likes being outside. I'm not good enough at reading felines to say she prefers it to being inside. She seems just as content curling up on Sam's dog bed or pretending she's a rabbit--hopping around and chasing a toy mouse in the house. Basically, she seems content wherever she happens to be at the time. If Heidi ever had that noble characteristic, it is long gone.
     Heidi has been with us for seven years--a gift from friends who already had two cats. For reasonable people, two cats are enough and they were quite reasonable. Now, reasonable is not a word I would use to describe our older cat. Neither is 'content' for that matter. While Ginny was making the most of her outside opportunity last night Heidi wasted the whole night as far as I can tell.

Heidi

     I've been up a lot during the nights this past month with back, leg and foot problems (that's a whole story in itself). When the pain keeps me awake I get up and hobble past the back door to the kitchen. Last night was particularly sleepless so I was up even more than usual so I can say I'm pretty certain what Heidi did all night long. She sat looking through the glass into the house wishing desperately to come back inside. As the darkness gave way to first light her patience wore thin and she started meowing. She continued without interruption until she was let in more than two hours later.
     It occurred to me that people can be like either of our two cats. Some take life as it comes and make the best of whatever situation in which they find themselves. Others can't enjoy their current situation because all they can think about is wanting to be somewhere else doing something else. They "meow" in different ways but the message is still the same.
     When we look at the Bible characters we see that there are some who aren't to blame for their situation, like Job or Paul and Silas in prison. Job cried out in sorrow and pain for God to answer him. It seems unfair to call that 'meowing.' He suffered a great deal.  So did Paul and Silas in Acts 16. They were beaten with rods and thrown in prison. Instead of 'meowing' they began singing and proved that they could rise above their unwelcome circumstance. Their response to difficulty was so extraordinary it astonished the jailer who begged them to tell him how to find that same ability. Others, like kings Ahab and Solomon spent all their energy meowing through the glass trying to find contentment by getting what they didn't already have.
     As we live through the Coronavirus social distancing rules some of us will react like Ginny and some like Heidi. We may not get to choose our circumstances, but nothing can take away our ability to choose how we react to them. In every difficulty, there is an opportunity for those who are determined enough to find it.