God's Lucky Day
It's three o'clock in the morning as I roll over one last time and decide I'm awake enough to write. It's like that when I have a revelation, an aha moment. I have to write.
Our home is situated on the cusp of noise and quiet, grass and asphalt, suburb and city. It's just the way it is, and since I was raised in Brooklyn in a three-bedroom house with eight siblings, the experience is familiar.
But sometimes I wake up and I don't know why. It could be a horn or a screeching nocturnal creature (we have a high raccoon population.) And what do I do when I wake up?
I think.
I review everything local and world news-wise, and all of my personal cares and then guess what? It's God's lucky day. My burdens become like basketballs aimed for the heavenly hoop: I give you...
And as I do this tonight, the words spoken by a friend long ago ring back: Let your bond with God be love.
Love.
And suddenly my basketball toss doesn't feel too good.
Lately I've felt impatient. It's an old familiar feeling that I haven't had in years, well, at least not to this degree. I am in full fix the world mode. My to-do list for God looks something like this: end world terrorism, hunger, heal people, young and old, from the perils of addiction; heal our planet, end corruption and heal the broken and sick. Not necessarily in that order, but if you could do it all by morning, it would be appreciated.
What kind of love is that? I lay and wonder, and all the world is hushed, waiting for my reply.
Not too loving, I murmur. What? It's not too loving, I repeat louder.
It's been said that the family is a microcosm of the world. And perhaps that puts world events in perspective. How much power does one have over his or her family, or the tide of love that ebbs, flows or dries up within it? Except for the long stretches in time when I don't, I get this. My fixing, or attempts to fix have historically been ineffective, okay, worse. They've also cost me a relationship or two. Still it's an impulse that was once illustrated by my five year-old son on a flight into LaGuardia Airport.
We always flew in and out of Kennedy International Airport, but since both airports are in New York, I didn't expect there would be any discernable difference. We were buckled in for our landing, and as the plane made its descent, it gently leaned into one wing when I caught a glimpse through the window that sent a chill up my spine. With nothing but ocean in the foreseeable distance and no landing strip in sight, we may as well have been hydroplaning. I controlled my drop-from-the-roller-coaster impulse to grip the armrests. I didn't want to alarm my kids and hoped they were oblivious, I made the sign of the cross with my eyeballs behind closed eyelids when I heard my son's cheerful voice:
Don't worry Mom! I'm flying the plane now.
Gawd I was transparent! (I'd berate myself for that later.) Right then my heart was wide open, like the shutter on a lens, absorbing the vision of my son's smile and upright posture, his hands fixed on the invisible wheel. Pure love. It was the very best of the human heart, wanting to do good. And this is where it gets complicated, isn't it? That pure impulse can turn on us, like bad chicken. The soft little grip on the wheel, accompanied by good intentions can become a death grip of determination.
We may find in life that we're finally exhausted from our efforts to steer. We may need to have our fingers surgically removed from the proverbial wheel, or we may snap out of it and hand it over to Him who is sovereign over all things, even our messes.
Love requires surrendering to His care that which we want with every fiber of our being to change or control for ourselves. In his care, the plane is always on course.
"Let the bond between you and God be love."
Below is little gift for the soul that I hope you'll be blessed by. (Lyrics below.)
Redeemed
Seems like all I could see was the struggle
Haunted by ghosts that lived in my past
Bound up in shackles of all my failures
Wondering how long is this gonna last
Then You look at this prisoner and say to me "son
Stop fighting a fight it's already been won"
I am redeemed, You set me free
So I'll shake off these heavy chains
Wipe away every stain, now I'm not who I used to be
I am redeemed, I'm redeemed
All my life I have been called unworthy
Named by the voice of my shame and regret
But when I hear You whisper, "Child lift up your head"
I remember, oh God, You're not done with me yet
I am redeemed, You set me free
So I'll shake off these heavy chains
Wipe away every stain, now I'm not who I used to be
Because I don't have to be the old man inside of me
'Cause his day is long dead and gone
Because I've got a new name, a new life, I'm not the same
And a hope that will carry me home
I am redeemed, You set me free
So I'll shake off these heavy chains
Wipe away every stain, 'cause I'm not who I used to be
I am redeemed, You set me free
So I'll shake off these heavy chains
Wipe away every stain, yeah, I'm not who I used to be
Oh, God, I'm not who I used to be
Jesus, I'm not who I used to be
'Cause I am redeemed
Thank God, redeemed