One day last week, a sudden urge to
give into daydreaming about Autumn came over me. I started thinking
how midsummer is the time when those of us who love Autumn begin
wishing away summer and longing for cool, crisp days. This is a
strong urge, one I have experienced every year since I was a little
girl. It hits about the time Christmas overtakes the shelves at the
craft stores. Who cares about Christmas in July? I am longing for
sweater weather, bonfires and golden leafed trees.
I
have learned one thing through all these years of wishing away the present for what comes next; what
I wish for isn’t always better than what I wished away. Actually
the wished for something rarely lives up to the longing
stretched–out–thin and reaching til it tips over and spills out
into a future time. How many summers have I wished away only to land
in a square space on the calendar claiming the Vernal Equinox has
arrived, and then discovering it’s just as hot and miserable as the
day before?
There
are often long, hot Indian summers. And sometimes there are dry
Autumns where the leaves on the trees brown the color of mud and blow
away without any glorious, golden moments. There have probably been
more disappointing Autumns than not. I have experienced enough
glorious Autumn days though to recognize when Autumn isn’t living
up to the its overblown reputation. All this to say I decided to
reign in my Autumn thoughts and find something to enjoy about summer.
But
what about when the things I wish away are more difficult to endure
than a hot summer passing by? On the way to get frozen yogurt after
my third oral surgery this year, I found myself wishing I wasn’t
going through all this dental drama. Instantly I realized we are all
going through something and my wishing away one challenging season
could lead me into worse trouble. Not because this is how God works,
but life is a revolving door of good and bad. Wishing away isn’t
like mail order – we can return it for something better. My wishful
thinking is a lack of acceptance that life is often hard, and there
are all kinds of hard. In spite of my current challenges I have much
to be thankful for today.
Some
of us may be willing to admit wishing away isn’t just a seasonal
activity; it has become a habit and is a result of discontentment or
entitlement. I cringe, but yes I said entitlement. I recognize that
when I think I should have it easier than others I am acting
entitled. I keep bringing this up in my writing because it is a real
struggle for me at times. And just maybe it is for you too.
Christine
Valters Paintner writes, “Contentment calls for a release of our
resistance to what life brings us. It can be a very subtle opening. .
. . Contentment doesn’t mean we are always happy about life events
or deny the reality of pain. We cultivate contentment by cultivating
the inner witness who is able to respond to life from a place of
calmness, peace, and tranquility. It means we honor that what is
given to us in any moment is enough. . . .the call is to celebrate
the sufficiency of what one already has. Contentment is closely
connected to the practice of gratitude . . .”
How
often have I missed the glory of God in my difficulties by attempting
to tear this chapter from the story of my life? How many wonderful
moments have I missed when I was poised on the edge and gazing into
the future? How much of my life has been exchanged for an imagined
ideal – a dream unable to hold all the expectations and hopes
poured into it. POW! It bursts like a water balloon.
I
have been through greater difficulties than oral surgery, and I have
experienced God’s goodness when I was willing to turn toward Him in
the midst of hardship. He has gifts for me each day when I pay
attention. He longs to hold me and soothe me when I am hurting. I
cling to the truth of Zephaniah 3:17.
“The
Lord your God is with you, he is mighty to save. He will take great
delight in you,
He
will quiet you with his love, he will rejoice over you with singing.”
I
believe Him when he says He will never leave me or forsake me, but my
wishing even one day of my story away exposes the doubts. I want my
belief in Him to stand up strong in the midst of my struggle, instead
of wavering in faith through wishful thinking. I am not judging your
wishful thinking moments. We are human, we have weak moments, and we
forget we don’t have to do this in our power. I am convicted by
those who live through great hardship with exceptional faith.
My
friend went on a mission trip to Jamaica. There she met a woman in
extraordinary poverty. This woman had several children and was
raising them alone. This Mother told my friend about a time when God
provided food for her starving children. She had taken a pot of
water, a limited and valued resource, and put it on the stove to
boil. She prayed in faith that God would bring her food to put in the
pot to feed her children. The water evaporated as she prayed, but her
faith did not vaporize. She filled the pot again with the last of the
water and prayed believing God would fill the pot with food to feed
her children. While the water evaporated a group of people made their
way to her door bringing food. I was moved by her faith in the midst
of dire need. And here I am just wishing away Autumn and challenging
dental drama.
How
can I take the energy I use for wishing my days away and pour it into
a fervent prayer of faith? Romans 5:2-5 in The Message comes to mind
when I think of holding my difficulty or disappointment before God
and living expectant of His care right here, right now.
We throw open our
doors to God and discover at the same moment that he has already
thrown open his door to us. We find ourselves standing where we
always hoped we might stand—out in the wide open spaces of God’s
grace and glory, standing tall and shouting our praise.
There’s more to come: We
continue to shout our praise even when we’re hemmed in with
troubles, because we know how troubles can develop passionate
patience in us, and how that patience in turn forges the tempered
steel of virtue, keeping us alert for whatever God will do next. In
alert expectancy such as this, we’re never left feeling
shortchanged. Quite the contrary—we can’t round up enough
containers to hold everything God generously pours into our lives
through the Holy Spirit!
In the
uncomfortable places of life I must turn to God! And in everyday
gives thanks; He is more than enough. How
is God making himself known to you in a place or experience you had
been wishing away?
