When the big things work out…

by BetsyFaith, LifePosted on No Comments

4 Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil: for thou art with me; thy rod and thy staff they comfort me. 5 Thou preparest a table before me in the presence of mine enemies: thou anointest my head with oil; my cup runneth over. 6 Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life: and I will dwell in the house of the Lord for ever. [Psalm 23:4-6]

When I was young, I used to go to a tanning salon…let me rephrase that…a very questionable shack connected to someone’s house with a tanning bed in it. The tanning bed worked fine, except for the timer. There was a chair in the room with a kitchen timer on it, and that was what was used so you didn’t spend too long in the “oven.” One time I arrived at the place, and no one was there, but the owner allowed people to just go in and use the tanning bed even if she wasn’t home. I didn’t usually use the timer, but I went ahead and cranked it over to 20 minutes before laying down. After a few minutes in the bed, my mind wandered to all sorts of thoughts, and before I knew it, I was sound asleep. A moment later, I woke to the obnoxious sound of the timer ringing two feet from my head. I have been thankful for years that I didn’t cook that day.

While I was in college, I drove an older car that had its share of issues, but it typically got me from point A to point B without much trouble. One Friday night, I had traveled about 300 miles to visit friends in another state, and when I returned on that Sunday, I made a couple of stops along the way for gas or snacks. When I returned to campus, I pulled into the driveway at my friend’s house and went inside to visit her and others that lived there. I went back out to the car to go to my dorm, and the car wouldn’t start. The starter had died. Though it wasn’t a cheap fix, I was thankful it didn’t quit on one of those stops during my travels.

The light went out, again.

When I was a sophomore in college, I had the opportunity to attend a May term in France for three weeks; it was a memorable trip in many ways. One incident I had wished to forget involved the motel where our group stayed and a rather immodest, indecent guest. A group of about six of us returned to the motel late one night and discovered a nude Frenchman wandering the halls. He seemed to have disappeared to his own room, we assumed, and then a couple of us went back into the hall to go use the showers, which had their own entrances from the hallway around the corner from our rooms. I was about to step into the shower when the light went out. Since it was late, I assumed that I had forgotten to lock the door; the showers were equipped with automatic lights that turned off after the door was unlocked for a number of seconds. After locking the door, I stepped into the shower and proceeded to lather up the bar of soap. The light went out, again. Realizing in a split second that the door was moving slowly open, I slammed my soapy body into it with all of my strength and relocked the door. I shouted repeatedly and stood there bracing the door, trembling but determined that it would not open again. After several minutes of shouting, I dressed in every piece of clothing I had in there with me, and finally built up the nerve to return to the room that I shared with two other girls on the trip. No one was in the hallway as I ran to the room and fumbled with the keypad to gain access inside. I was a sight, my hair still dripping and my clothes clinging to my soap-covered body. My friends looked at me and said, “What’s wrong?” I explained what had happened, and one of them said that she had entered the shower next door to mine, but had returned to the room to get something, and saw the nude man wandering the hall again, so she decided not to shower that night. I was just thankful that I returned safely to the room unscathed.

…without my faith, those other events could have destroyed me…

Many difficult situations have arisen in my life, and I have had to face them like everyone else has. The incidents that I have written about here turned out much better than they could have, and like I said, not all of my life events have had such desirable results. The point is, without my faith, those other events could have destroyed me, as could these had they turned out differently. I am thankful to be here today to share my stories and what I have learned. Please share something you have learned from an event in your life in the comments.

When those little things work out…

by BetsyFaith, LifePosted on No Comments

29 Are not two sparrows sold for a penny? Yet not one of them will fall to the ground outside your Father’s care. 30 And even the very hairs of your head are all numbered. 31 So don’t be afraid; you are worth more than many sparrows. [Matthew 10:29-31]

One time when I left the grocery store a few years ago, I had decided to also grab a movie to watch. I selected one from the kiosk and proceeded to the car with my son and the groceries. After unloading the groceries into the car, my son and I got in and headed out to pick up one of his friends a couple of miles away. While situating backpacks and groceries in the trunk, it occurred to me that I didn’t know where the movie was. I inspected all of the grocery bags, but it was nowhere to be found. I asked my son if he’d seen it, but he hadn’t either. We returned to the grocery store, and I located the cart I had recently parked in the cart collection area, and there was the movie–leaning against the side in such a manner that it blended in with its surroundings. I was so thankful that someone hadn’t seen it and taken it.

When I was in college, I drove a smallish mid-80’s station wagon that had a roof rack. I used to travel from state to state visiting friends during breaks, and one time when I had stopped for gas, I inadvertently had left the gas cap on top of the car. About 200 miles later, I had stopped for gas again, opened the gas door and was surprised to see the gas cap was missing. For a moment, I worried that I’d left it at that gas station in another state, but then it instantly hit me to check the roof. I slid my hand along the edge of the roof rack back to the crosspiece that ran perpendicular to it, and there, wedged into the corner, was my gas cap. I was so thankful I didn’t have to figure out how to replace it on the road or back at school.

…ponder all those times that the event didn’t happen.

My son has a habit of putting things in unconventional places, and more than once, he has placed his wallet in the space between the left rear view mirror and the driver’s door. One time when I happened to be riding with him, he had driven about ten miles down the highway before he suddenly realized it was still out there, wedged in. Thankfully, he was able to pull over and retrieve it before it became litter along the roadside. Ironically, we once found someone’s wallet beside the road and were able to return it to him. The man was extremely grateful. Somehow, I don’t think my son’s wallet would’ve been returned if he’d lost it by the highway in that area!

We have lost things on occasion from leaving them on the vehicle as well, like a pair of gloves left on the rear bumper and one of my son’s skis from the bed of the truck–though that is where we transported them, not that we’d left it there by accident. We had hit a substantial pothole and the one ski had apparently flown out unbeknownst to us, but after several days of searching and putting up posters about the lost ski, someone contacted us about his finding it, and we were able to get it back. We never found the gloves.

God shows me that He is just that omniscient and powerful to know about every little thing in my life, no matter how trivial I think it may be.

I think the real lesson is to ponder all those times that the event didn’t happen. How many times have I remembered my keys rather than locking them in the vehicle? How many times have I passed through traffic unscathed rather than that time that I waited for hours in gridlock? It helps me to shift my focus to the longevity of what I take for granted as normal; it helps me to put those trifling nuisances into perspective.

Though I prefer things to be easy, believing that God knows what He’s up to helps when they’re not.

When I start thinking that those little things don’t matter to God, He shows me that He is just that omniscient and powerful to know about every little thing in my life, no matter how trivial I think it may be. And even when things don’t go according to my plan, He is using those events, those details, those frustrations as part of a picture so much larger and more complex than I can ever imagine. So it’s not my place to worry; I only have to live and trust. Though I prefer things to be easy, believing that God knows what He’s up to helps when they’re not.

Running from rejection…

by BetsyFaith, LifePosted on No Comments

“I can’t explain it. I know I shall probably never see him again. I cannot bear to think that he is alive in the world…and thinking ill of me.” Elizabeth Bennet, film adaptation of Jane Austen’s Pride & Prejudice

What if Elizabeth had never seen Mr. Darcy again? What if she had never humbled herself to thank him for his kindness because she was too afraid that he’d reject her? What a different story it would have been! I am well-acquainted with rejection; most people are. I have yet to run into anyone who loves experiencing it, though, for obvious reasons. No one wants to feel unneeded, unvalued, or unloved.

Although I don’t consider myself a fearful person, upon closer reflection, I find that I have made many decisions over the years based on an underlying fear of rejection. These were not usually major life decisions, but a subliminal training of my thought processes to shy away from situations where I could potentially experience rejection. The shift from avoiding rejection to avoiding human interaction is not far-fetched at all.

…“smallish” choices have somewhat backed me into a safe, albeit lonely, corner.

This type of thinking could easily have led to my complete withdrawal from society! However, I crave human interaction, so I began to reflect on why I seem to be less social at this point more than at any prior time in my life. What did I find? A long trail of “smallish” choices that have somewhat backed me into a safe, albeit lonely, corner. Such seemingly insignificant decisions as shopping online instead of entering an actual store or choosing an online course over a traditional educational setting have allowed me to avoid interacting with people in the “risky,” in-person fashion.

How anti-climatic and forgettable their stories would be without those moments!

Looking back, I have rationalized that choices such as these are just to make life easier–and they have, but at what cost? Technology does make life easier on many fronts, but it also allows us to hide from each other and avoid confrontation of actual feelings. I have to imagine if some of my favorite literary characters had avoided confrontation, how they might have behaved if they had the option to text instead of having a conversation. How anti-climatic and forgettable their stories would be without those moments! If Mr. Darcy had texted Elizabeth his proposal from the safety of his aunt’s mansion, we as readers would have been deprived of his appealing vulnerability and Elizabeth’s seemingly justified and abrasive refusal of him. In turn, we also would miss out on her humble confession of misjudgement and eventual change of heart toward Mr. Darcy.

Embrace life in all of its ups and downs! For God has not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind. 2 Timothy 1:7

How much richer our lives are because of these moments as well! I am not condoning looking for confrontation, but rather embracing life in all of its ups and downs. Technology has its place, but shouldn’t be a tool for enabling fear. For God has not given us the spirit of fear; but of power, and of love, and of a sound mind. 2 Timothy 1:7

But what if I can fly…

by BetsyFaithPosted on No Comments

I really don’t like how moods affect my outlook. Sometimes it seems like I can accomplish anything, and other days, I ask myself when it became so difficult to get out of bed. I have tried on occasion to take a mental inventory of where I am in those great moments of optimism and strength, attempting to “bottle” it in my mind for later. Unfortunately, it doesn’t work that way. Inevitably, I end up again in the land of pessimism with an empty bottle and no recollection of what was in it.

When my son was younger, I took pride in the fact that I could participate in activities with him. Prevailing against my own fears and concerns for my aging physique, I shrieked my way down water slides and hiked mountains that left me aching for days. One water slide was called the Stealth V. It looked intimidating to me, and my son was even visibly shaken after experiencing it, which shook my resolve even further. He came running up to me, dripping from the drain pool at the bottom, and said, “Mom, you’ve got to try this! I might go again.”

…the higher I climbed, the more I regretted my accursed “no regrets” approach.

The fact that he was having second thoughts about going again was a red flag, but I have this thinking process where I convince myself I can try anything once. At least I know I gave it a shot. No regrets. I ascended the five stories of steps with a tube to ride down on, and the higher I climbed, the more I regretted my accursed “no regrets” approach. I watched as the riders in front of me disappeared over the edge of the giant V-shaped abyss, where they would cascade down one side of the V and up the other, until they came to a stop in the drain pool many yards below.

I wanted to scream, but felt the air had been sucked out of my body.

I noticed that they were basically all young people, which of course made me question my reasoning in trying this thrill ride. But it was too late. I was next. I flopped my tube on the narrow platform next to the attendant and climbed on top. The young man instructed me to hold on to both handles, and then shoved my tube over the edge. It seemed that the V dropped off at a 90-degree angle, which it really didn’t, but it felt that way to my empty lungs as I tried to inhale amidst the absence of air. I wanted to scream, but felt the air had been sucked out of my body. In that instant, I had split-second visions of my tube rolling down the side of the V, my bones cracking as I rolled with it. But somehow I stayed upright, facing downward at my fate until gravity spun my tube and I found myself staring back at the point of origin disappearing in the distance. By the time my tube began to ascend the opposite side of the V, I found my breath and let out a pitiful “Woohoo!” This was mostly out of relief that I was almost back on ground level and the knowledge that I would not put myself through that ordeal again. Yeah, I did it once. That’s all I needed.

…it’s easy to focus on the empty bottle where the optimism once was…

It’s hard to believe my Stealth V experience was about seven years ago now. Recently, I was presented with the opportunity to go urban sightseeing on an electric scooter. Having broken a few bones over the course of my life, I was slightly hesitant to try it, but after a little practice, I became somewhat comfortable balancing on it and rode for over an hour. I applied the same principle as before. I had to try it, or I would regret that I didn’t. I didn’t want the regret. The old saying that people regret more what they didn’t do in life than what they did do seems to be embedded in my psyche. When I get stuck in those valleys of depression and pessimism, it’s easy to focus on the empty bottle where the optimism once was and think, “I better not try this; what if I fall?” There is one drop left in that bottle, however, and it whispers, “But what if I can fly?”

I’ll keep stepping out in faith, believing that if God leads me to it, He’ll lead me through it.

Appropriately, those scooters are called Birds, and I did “fly.” I’ll keep stepping out in faith, believing that if God leads me to it, He’ll lead me through it. Not just the entertaining aspects of life, but anything life presents. The principle is the same, even when it doesn’t turn out how I think it should, or when it takes my breath away in the process. No regrets.