Learning Like Leah

Hello Friend!

Are you ready to go back to school?  I’m not and frankly it has me a bit blue.  In an effort to encourage myself, I meandered through the bible in a haphazard manner, claiming promises and misapplying verses to my situation in an effort to feel better.  When that didn’t work I marched over to the Psalms and pronounced doom over a few individuals that have been vexing me severely.  When none of that stuck (utterly shocking I agree) I picked up my bible study and waltzed smack into one of the most disagreeable bible stories the bible has to offer.  I was really having a morning.

For the past week I have been unable to shake the story of Leah, found in Genesis 29**.  If you aren’t familiar with it, I’d like to apologize because it isn’t light reading.  Within a few verses you will wonder what on earth was wrong with Jacob’s family and how anyone as twisted as Laban could make it into a bible story. I find it comforting because although I’ve never manipulated anyone into hard labor for 14 years, I did make my 12 year old clean her bathroom the other day and I’m glad the bible still has something to say to the likes of me.

In the narrative Jacob falls in love with Rachel and agrees to work for her father Laban for 7 years in exchange for permission to marry.  The night of the wedding, Laban places Leah, Rachel’s’ older sister, in the marriage bed and sets the scene for a decidedly horrible outcome.  The story continues with enmity sewn into the entire polygamous situation.  It’s sad and disturbing and upsetting.  God continues to bless those in the story but as in many cases, Leah doesn’t get delivered out of her difficult situation. 

I have read this story many times and tried to imagine it from the point of view of all the major characters.  Today I’ve considered the story from Leah’s point of view because recently I have been placed in the role of the “unwanted” character in a circumstance that has played out around me.  I keep wondering if there was anything I could have done to avoid the role as villain, but I’m not certain we always get to choose our roles.   

Circumstance and sin are a lethal combination.  For Leah, the manipulation of her father placed her in a circumstance from which she would never escape.  Both her husband and her sister viewed her as unwanted and treated her as such.  Scripture says that Leah was unloved, though the concordance uses the word “hated.”  Those are strong words.  Have you ever been desperate for the love or approval of another? Only to be hated and despised for your efforts? 

Faith in God is tested when we are despised by others for reasons that lie beyond our ability to fix.  In fact, our efforts to fix things in such circumstances often make people like us even less.  Such circumstances are desperately unfair.  So what am I supposed to do when someone doesn’t like me, doesn’t want to like me and is brazen enough to advertise the fact?  (Hint: You aren’t allowed to run them over with your car.  I’ve suggested it - apparently it's a no go.)    

Over the past decade, circumstance has made me a few enemies.  Try as I might, these delightful people had no desire to live at peace with me.  At first the situation was devastating because I dislike conflict.  I assumed that as believers, we would have a civil conversation to try to make our way through points of disagreement.  Wrong.  When someone wants to paint you as the “bad guy” you are playing a vital role in their world.  The first thing I had to do was let go of the desire to be loved and focus on honoring the Lord instead. 

This is a lot harder than it sounds.  At first I did a large amount of ignoring my snake of an opponent and crying. Blessedly, I had some lovely prayer people who tended to my wounds and listened to my endless list of complaints.  As time passed and I practiced the discipline of treating my enemies biblically, it hurt less…mostly.  There was that month I went out of my way to ask my enemy the time whenever we were together in a group setting to see if she would ignore me: but I view that time as a maturation period. Additionally, I could mention the time I parked behind her car and pulled in so closely she couldn’t open her hatchback but it hardly seems relevant right now. 

The difficult part about Christianity is that it comes with some fine print. 

But I say unto you, Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you; Matt 5:44

So my friend, I’m praying for you if you have an enemy or two who are bent on unjustly mistreating you.  Praying that you might have the grace to do what the bible suggests and pray for their unkind souls.  That as you give yourself to the discipline of prayer, you might care less about their meanness and more about their mindset.  And that in discovering their weakness, you might pray for the Lord to heal what is broken and rise far above the chains that bind you to hatred and pain.  Like Leah, you might see your enemy coming and say, “This time I will praise the Lord.”

Let's not kid ourselves, I think Leah was still treated poorly and I expect some days it really got up her nose.  But somewhere in the process of being hated, Leah learned that God was worthy of her trust and her thanks.  Something about his goodness, eclipsed the ugly behavior of those around her. I can't help but think that now, as in the past, the ability to see beauty when things around us are ugly is a skill worth learning.   

I’m thinking of you this week.

xoxKaren

**First book of the bible, for my pagan friends, shoot for the middle of the book and you will be close.  

To ‘b’ or not to ‘b’

‘He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain, for the old order of things has passed away." Rev 21:4

Some mistakes are understandable.  If for example, I had dyslexia, it would understandable if I got the names of two garages mixed up because the letters were similar.  PB auto is similar to DP auto in the dyslexic brain.  Though only mildly affected, I have a tendency to switch letters and numbers.  Over the years I have learned how to set myself up for success but when I was younger it was more difficult. 

When I was a child I viewed letters as confusing objects I needed to learn to in order to read.   Having a relational bent this meant I quickly anthropomorphized the entire alphabet.  I was one of the few children in grade school that thought of the letter “p” as a “d” that had gotten tired, fallen over and given up on life entirely.  ‘q’ and ‘p’ were virtually indistinguishable had it not been for ‘q’s best friend ‘u’ I would never have been able to tell the two apart.  Speaking of looking alike, ‘b’ and ‘d’ were identical twins that wouldn’t stop dressing alike.  I hated those guys. 

It was complicated.

It’s still complicated because if there is anything I have mastered, it is the art of complication.  Take last month, when a road trip took me home to visit family.  It was a lovely summer visit, cousins everywhere, ice cream consumed in vast quantities and daily swimming excursions for anyone who wanted to tag along.  Wonderful despite the fact I put a lot of miles on my aging van which is why I occasionally get work done in Canada at P&B Auto when I’m on holiday.  Intending to take the car in, I called when we arrived at Grandma’s but the garage was too busy to see us. 

When I returned home to the US after my trip, my mechanic called and made an appointment to look at my car.  I didn’t remember calling them, but the fact they phoned me convinced me I must have called them from Canada to deal with the issue upon my return.  (**This was a ridiculous mistake.  Put in pin in this, it’s important.)  I provided all the relevant information and the part was ordered.  They would see my van in two days’ time.  Have you met my mechanic at DP Auto?  His name is Dale.  He is kind to me despite the fact I know absolutely nothing about cars and keep putting my van in peril.  He is patient with negligent car owners. 

When my schedule went sideways a day later, I decided to drop my car off at the garage the night before the scheduled appointment.  Dale is flexible that way and I was sure he wouldn’t mind.  I pulled up to the garage and waltzed in the door.

“Hi Dale!  How are you?  I hope you don’t mind but I’m dropping off the van early, I can’t get a ride back tomorrow morning.”

Dale looked up from his desk. “Hi.”  He looked confused.  “Oh, no it isn’t a problem.  What exactly are we doing again? “

“Wheel bearing.  That construction zone down the street, remember?  You ordered the part for me.”

“Right….” Dale paused and still looked perplexed.  “Okay then, can you write that down for me and we’ll get it done.” 

v Scribbling down the information, I wondered if Dale was tired, he seemed off his game somehow.  He generally knows when I’m coming.  I finished with the pen, put it down and handed over my keys.  “Thank you sir.  You’ll give me a call tomorrow then?” 

“Sure will.” He smiled and waved me out the door.

“All done?” my daughter asked as I jumped in the car.  “Yep, but Dale seemed confused. I wonder what’s up.”  I shut the car door and we started home.  A few minutes later, my phone rang.

“Hi Karen?”

“Yes, I’m here!”

“Hey the part for your van came in so we will be ready to go first thing in the morning.  Can you get it here by 7:30?”

I was confused for a fraction of a second before a cold wave of dread smashed into my psyche, dread followed by mortification.  I muted the phone and screamed in agony.  My daughter, who is used to me but doesn’t understand the depths of my talents, looked at me in surprise. “Mum what?”  I continued to groan and writhe until the voice in my ear said, “Hello? Karen?”  What followed was a desperately embarrassing phone call where I confessed to my Canadian mechanic P&B Auto that I wasn’t actually in Canada anymore and would not be bringing my car in the following morning.   Remember that phone call a couple paragraphs back?  It wasn’t my mechanic in the United States DP Auto calling; it was my Canadian mechanic P&B Auto.  I didn’t catch it because in my dyslexic brain, the letters B, D and P are highly interchangeable. Dyslexia is the gift that just keeps giving. 

I had made an appointment with my Canadian mechanic thinking it was my American mechanic.  This meant two things: 1. My Canadian mechanic now thought I was an idiot and 2. I had just waltzed in and given my car to Dale to be fixed without an appointment!  No wonder he seemed so confused.  Steeling myself I phoned Dale and left a voice message explaining the situation and apologizing for dropping off a car without an appointment. Every time I played the situation over in my mind I winced, how could I have gotten their names confused?  What was I thinking?  It was an uncomfortable evening.

The next morning, I phoned Dale to explain myself.  “I’m so sorry.  I didn’t realize that I had your garage and garage back home mixed up.  That was so rude.  You must have wondered what on earth I was doing.”

“It’s not a problem.  These things happen.” Dale replied.

“Do you need me to come get the car?  Do you have any time this week?” I was still feeling foolish and cringing but tried to put it behind me. 

“Actually Karen, I do need you to get the car.  It’s just… I’m closing.  I got a diagnosis… it’s terminal.  I’m shutting the shop.  I’m going to stop working.”

In that moment, everything shifted.  One minute I was feeling self-aware and foolish and the next I was stunned; overcome and lacking the words.  “Dale,” I said, “I am so very sorry to hear this.  Do you have people around you?  Do you have medical help?”  We chatted for a few minutes.  A new and weighty reality settling over us as we discussed what were now irrelevant details.  A couple hours later, I was walking up the driveway to the shop.  Dale was sitting behind the counter waiting.  He stood up when I walked in. 

He looked leaner than last I saw him a few months ago, I didn’t notice it last night.  He looked at me and smiled.  “Well Sir,” I started speaking slowly.  “I’m deadly embarrassed I made such and idiot of myself, screwing things up like this, but I’m really glad I get to see you one last time.”  I breathed deeply, not knowing what you are supposed to say to someone who is dying. I looked at him and found some. 

“I wanted to thank you, for your work and your ministry.  It isn’t easy finding honest people.  You have really blessed the community.  You made getting  my car repaired so much easier.  Your integrity and hard work have been a remarkable gift.  I’m so very sorry this is happening.  I wanted you to know that I think you are ending your business with excellence.  It is so hard today for small businesses like yours.  You have done such good work building all of this.  Thank you.  Really…Thank you.”

His eyes filled with tears and so did mine.  We chatted some more about his property, his plans, his health.  He asked me if I wanted him to back the car out of the lot and I said yes.  It would have been just my luck to try to back it up and to run into something.  He laughed and grabbed my keys off the counter.  Exiting the car he opened the door for me.  I shook his hand, “This is a hard goodbye Sir.  I pray your last days will be filled with peace and deep joy.”  Overcome, I gave him a quick hug and jumped in the car.  “Thank you Karen.  I know who I belong too and I know where I ‘m going.” 

“Amen.” I said, smiling, I blew a kiss and drove down the drive.

It was a very strange 24 hours, spiraling from acute embarrassment to obtuse sadness. 

So I’ve been thinking this week about the things I get confused.  The way unimportant issues get identified as serious ones, is similar to the way I mix up the letters b and d.  I get confused and think how I am perceived is more important than the composition of my character.  Strangely the best way to get priorities straight is to remember everyone is on a road that ends in death and sometimes you get to say good bye and sometimes you don’t. When I remember my days are limited I am more likely to stay focused on what is important.  So I’m praying for those of us who are overcome by embarrassment or failure.  That by God’s grace we would remember that life is a gift too precious to be wasted on excessive self-consciousness.  Instead, we might keep moving, eyes off trivial things and focusing on the love that makes our lives worth living. 

God did this so that they would seek him and perhaps reach out for him and find him, though he is not far from any one of us. ‘For in him we live and move and have our being… Acts 17:27-28

xoxKaren

PS. Thank you for the photo Heidi

PPS.for more on Dale's awesomeness check out Isaiah 61:3 Feb 2018

The Current is Calling

One of summers' joys. 

I believe swimming is an essential part of any successful summer.  Growing up, I lived near some of the best swimming the planet has to offer.  Fresh or salt water never mattered, as long as the day included swimming it was a happy one.  Which is how last week, I ended up on a river as part of an inner tube flotilla with 11 of my closest relatives.  The weather held at a surprising 90 degrees the entire week, making a run to the river a necessity.  Vacations have a way of taking on a rhythm of their own and my family was happy to putz away the morning and swim in the afternoon.  After lunch was made, devoured and the dishes put away, the masses would head to their rooms, don their swim suits and jump into cars to be whisked away for a magical afternoon of relief from the soaring temperatures.

I’m not a super hero or anything but the fact that I own an electric pump made me popular when we got to the river.  Ten minutes of inflating tubes, finding goggles and handing out water bottles and we would march down to the river to ready ourselves for our adventure. 

Anyone who has tubed down a river will tell you that there is a skill to knowing which side of the river you should be on as it winds its way through the landscape.  Our guide, a fresh water enthusiast, shouted directions as the kids screamed and launched their tubes into the current.  Tubing is a nice way to spend time with family.  You can start out with one person and after a twist and a turn, find yourself with another family member as the water decides your journey.  I was getting along with the water for the most part and helping my youngest manage some rapids, when she decided I was heading in the wrong direction and launched herself off  my tube in order to avoid some rocks.    I’m not sure how she did it, but a kick of her flippers and I spun off on my own into a side eddy that took me to a large flat rock shelf where I promptly lost all momentum. 

I sat for a moment looking at the blue sky, watching family members float by when I realized that I was in a dead spot.  I would have to maneuver my inner tube back into the current.  I steadied myself and hopped out of my tube into waist deep water.  The rock shelf was slippery and I shuffled along the ridge in order to position myself to reenter the current.  A fish caught my attention and I followed him for a few steps when I noticed a pattern in the water.  Squinting, I bent down for a better look and decided my curiosity merited the cold I was about to experience.  I plunged into the water to grab at the shape and came up gasping with a brand new iphone. 

Not what I was expecting.

I jumped into my tube and pushed off the ledge and entered the current again.  I wasn’t worried about catching up anymore; I was trying to figure out how an $1,100 phone became part of a salmonid spawning ground.  Turns out I didn’t have to guess for long because the case for this brand new iphone held “Mike’s” visa, debit card, driver’s license and work ID.  It was all sort of weird.  I was out in the middle of a river and managed to find some dude’s phone.  I knew enough about water and electronics to know that I needed to power the thing off immediately, though I didn’t expect it would still be working.  I stuffed the phone in the plastic bag holding my keys to keep it out of the water until I left the river.   Hitting the current sideways I started to spin in circles and I realized I needed to pay attention to the river before I hurt myself.  I shoved the plastic bag into my top and straightened myself out when my cleavage started to ring. 

“You have got to be kidding!” I said to my chest. 

My chest responded by ringing some more.

At this point, I started shouting because that is what you do when you shove a brand new phone in your top and it starts ringing.  Water was everywhere, and I was trying to get the phone out of the bag to talk to the person who was calling me.  “HI!”  I shouted into the stupid thing.  “I JUST FOUND YOUR PHONE!”  It was a woman on the other end of the line and she was shouting too, except she was happier than I was.  For reasons I can’t explain, but I suspect had to do with water, I couldn’t hear the woman on the line very well.  I deduced that this was Mike’s mother.  I gave her my number and said that we could meet up later when I got out of the river.  I was in shallow water now and the rocks causing the rapids were getting bigger.  I needed to get off the phone before we both ended up in the shallows again.  In truth she called me back as I was getting close to my family because she hadn’t hear me properly the first time.  After slamming my posterior into a couple of boulders, I have to confess I was starting to feel persecuted. 

I caught up with my family and showed them Mike’s new phone.  We all agreed that he shouldn’t have taken his phone swimming; though we had proof that the iphone X was just as water proof as they claim.  According to Mike’s mother he lost it the day before and she had been calling it continually.  That left an odd picture in my brain at which point I decided life was too complicated for people like myself.  I stuck the phone in the bag in my sisters dingy in order to give us both some space.

Our afternoon at the river continued with swimming, sunbathing and snacks.  When we were ready to leave, I looked up Mike’s address on his license so that I could return his phone.  He was 2 miles away so I figured I would return it for his mother’s sake.  10 minutes later I was knocking on Mike’s door and meeting his folks.  Mike was at work, thank you for asking, though he features heavily in this story he was notably absent.  We made small talk, rolled our eyes like parents do and agreed that is was a strange turn of events that brought me to their doorstep.  “I really thought it was gone.” Mike’s mum said.  “Crazy that you were able to find it.” 

It was that sentiment that got me thinking this week.  Have you ever lost anything important my friend?  Granted expensive iphones are important but my mind to turned to things that can’t be recovered by humans.  Have you ever lost hope?  A situation confronts you that can’t be fixed and you are years past praying for an answer.  That happens sometimes to people who have faith, despite what the happy clappy set says.  There are times when we wait to find hope, to find what is lost and to find a remedy for what left us broken. 

I wanted to remind you that with God, hope is never lost.  He knows where it is and in time will bring it back to you.  It might not be as staggering as Mike’s phone being found in the river, but God doesn’t forget people.  One of my favorite names for God is El Roi, the God who sees.   I’m thinking of you this week, if you are one of the many who are experiencing loss.  I pray that your hope would be restored: gently and persistently.  That the Lord would gather you in a new current and that refreshing waters would give you momentum again. 

xoxKaren