Skip to main content

Putrid Albatrosses & Buried Treasure

January 12, 2013 will be a significant day for me. Unless something radical changes in my life, it will mark the longest time I have ever lived in one place: seven years.  That may not sound very significant to some folks but to me it is huge. Most of my life I have been an urban Bedouin.  I went to two schools in kindergarten, two schools in second grade, a different school for third through sixth grades, a different school district for seventh grade, moved in ninth grade and spent four years going to a high school that was not in my neighborhood.  For every different school or school district I was in there were probably four or five moves. Now you live with your mom, dad and half of your siblings; now you live with your mother's mother; now you live with your father's mother; now you live with your father's friends; now you're back at your grandmother's; now you're back living with your father who has married your aunt.... it was very much like being a piece in one of those sliding numbers puzzles;  trying to slide things into place and find order where there was none. 

The day after I graduated high school I moved to a different county.  Next came a succession of moves which isn't all that unusual for a young adult. Every six months or a year I would find myself in a new home, in new surroundings, doing new things. I carried the same old burdens to each of those places. I have been carrying any number of albatrosses around my neck like badges of honor.  Putrid, albatrosses: abandonment, abuse, chaos, neglect, fear, anxiety, failure.

I've known for a long time that none of those things came to me accidentally. It used to make me mad. Then I was comforted by it and started taking those stinking birds off but I've always kept them close by. Why? Just in case I need them to prove I am no damned good.  There's nothing quite so satisfying when you're throwing a pity party than to start enumerating the list of real grievances you have about your life.  

Last night I got to hear Dr. Bruce Ware speak on The Truth of  God's Providence.  It was good for me to hear his exposition on the topic.  I needed a tune up.   I was reminded of something I learned a long time ago.  If you look at the timeline of eternity, this time here and now doesn't amount to a flyspeck.  It is infinitesimally small.  It is the only time a Christian can and will know suffering.  God, in eternity past, chose me to glorify Him through His grace and mercy.  That means that all the heartaches; all the scars;  all the bloated, maggot infested experiences that I choose to wear to keep myself walled off from others  are going to be replaced with the mind blowing contentment of worshiping my God and Savior. 

As I ponder it, it seems to me that during my sanctification, the reality of all God's providence being good should be compelling enough to stop me from collecting the dead birds of disappointment and pain. My faith shouldn't only give me future hope, it should expose the treasures of hope in my history.  Could it be we find that hope as we bury the past in the truth of God's sovereignty? I am willing to find out. 


Popular posts from this blog

Procrastination- Propaganda- Profundity

When I am studying something that bothers me, I do just about anything I can to stall. In doing so I stumble upon a lot of odd information. I love history and any student of history will tell you that most everything we are familiar with has had an odd beginning. Sometimes there will be different odd stories regarding the genesis of a myth, folkway or idiom. Somewhere in the mix the truth can be found. You just have to look.

While I lived in Australia I went to a visit a little town on the Murray River called Echuca. Echuca has a wonderful history and boasts the largest collection of paddle steamers in the world. It also has a coach house and carriage museum. It was during my visit to the carriage museum that I was told the origin of the expression to 'drop off to sleep.' According the docent, the carriage cheap seats were the ones outside and on the back. You had a platform to sit on and a rope or rail to hang onto for dear life. During a long trip a poor unfortun…

Sleep Snorkel Surprise

Summer colds. Blech! Is there anything more annoying that being too hot and having your nose run like Bridalveil Fall? Probably but nothing comes to mind right now. My nose is red and raw from all the sneezing and blowing and I have been using Puff's. Imagine if I had some generic sandpaper tissue instead? I could probably die from the pain. Death by runny nose rough tissue rhinoplasty.
I went to bed very early last night because I was feeling miserable. I have sleep apnea and therefore sleep with a bipap machine that keeps from crumping in my sleep. Now, I love my little bipap machine. I got it after my near death experience a few years ago when the nurses in the ICU turned me in to the doctor because I never slept. Once I was released from the hospital they sent me for a sleep study. I had to do it twice because they wait for you to fall to sleep and monitor your breathing in order to decide if you need a machine. Generally they try different types of machines and differe…

Super Church a song for the Emergent-sy

In the early 70s I was in a youth choir at my church. Our youth pastor was a musician and his way of connecting with us as a group was through the choir and music. Somehow there was an affiliation between him and The Continental Singers, New Hope and Jeremiah People. He was worked with Moishe Rosen of Jews for Jesus too, I think. Are any of these names familiar to you? Though I remember the church fondly I was a profoundly lost and troubled young woman during my years there. That and time have muddled the memories quite a bit.

Today I was digging through some old paperwork and one of the books to the musical we did. It's Getting Late For the Great Planet Earth, a folk rock oratorio by Cam Floria. Yes, that's right. Cam Floria put Hal Lindsey to music. There's a lot to laugh about and some to groan about but as I was looking through the songs and remembering, I found this little ditty and I only wish I could sing it for you. Just remember that this is circa 1972 and even the…