You pardon sin.
Forgive transgression.
———-
You provide an inheritance.
Save a remnant.
Keep your promises.
Are true.
___________
You are not angry forever.
Able to delight in showing mercy.
God.
___________
You will have compassion again.
Stomp out our sins with Your feet.
Hurl our iniquities into the sea.
———-
You pledged an oath long ago.
Remember Jacob and Abraham.
Are the only God.
*Micah 7:18-20
I walked into the gym one night this week and was greeted by the voice of a former student, “Hi Andrea.” It took me about 5 minutes to recover and respond appropriately. She then proceeded to comfortably call me by my first name about 3 times. There are a few reasons why this bothers me.
1. I didn’t give her permission to call me Andrea even though I know there’s no logical reason why an adult should call another adult “Mrs. Last Name.”
2. I just don’t like going to the gym and seeing former students (or closest friends!). I like to maintain a certain level of anonymity at the gym. I want to walk in and be ignored (and pretend like I’m just as fit as anyone else in there!).
3. As a teacher, I tried to maintain a distance between my person and professional life. This forces those two worlds to collide and I don’t know how to deal with it. (And I shouldn’t have to think that hard when I go to the gym!)
4. It reminds me that a former student works at the gym where I’m a member, which means that she has access to my personal information and has some kind of authority over me (which is just weird!).
5. It reminds me that she–somewhat effortlessly–has the body I–somehwat effortlessly–had when I was her age. (And that is just not an encouraging thought when you’re trying to get in shape!)
“He has showed you, O man, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.” Micah 6:8
I love making lists. I mean, really love it. Just ask Harry. We’ll be vegging out on a Sunday night trying to make the most of every remaining relaxing moment before the work week begins and I’ll start to freak out about everything that needs to happen that week or everything I didn’t get done over the weekend. And he’ll say, would it help you to make a list? So, I make a list and my shoulders relax and I put it out of my head and return to my relaxing evening. Lists can be a good thing for people like me.
They make me feel like I have some control over my day, my house, my work, my family, holidays…just about anything. If I can make a list, I can take a deep breath and know that it’s going to get done.
Sometimes, though, the whole list doesn’t get finished.
I know, it’s shocking, but I can’t really have control over every aspect of my life with a list–not matter how hard I try! And when that happens, I have to choose whether to be angry because my idol of perfectionism has failed me, or to be at peace with what did get done and rest in my identity in Christ.
My spiritual life is not immune to this activity either. I look at the verse above and see a list. Finally, something for me to check off in the Christian life! Number 1: Act justly….ok, I think I’ve got that one. I definitely try to be fair. Number 2: Love mercy….Who doesn’t love mercy? Then, Number 3: Walk humbly. hmmm. Then, it starts to get a little more complicated.
I definitely want justice and fairness for the things I think are wrong in the world, but what does “acting justly” really mean in my little world? What does it mean when I have a conflict with a coworker?
And I love mercy for myself, but I don’t always want it for someone that I feel has wronged me or a loved one. And is it just me, or is there a tension between acting justly and loving mercy?
And then, walking humbly with the Lord. Wow. So, even when I get a list, it’s still about my heart. Even when it’s boiled down into a list of three bullets, it’s still impossible to be obedient to the Lord and His commands without submitting my heart to Him in humility. And no matter how much I want to make one, there’s no list for that.
I visited an exercise class tonight called “Body Pump.” For some reason the words body pump weren’t informative enough for me. So, I asked at the front desk what kind of class this was going to be. An employee, who just happens to be a former student of mine (a story of weirdness for another day), said, “It’s intimidating . . . , but don’t let it intimidate you.” In a moment of bravery or insanity or just plain-old pride (clearly I couldn’t let a former student think that I was intimidate-able), I confidently made my way over to the classroom. I was greeted at the door with a bag of halloween candy and a slightly overzealous, smiling, high-pitched teacher saying, “Are you coming to class??????” I asked the teacher if this was an advanced class and she replied, “Oooooh, noooo,” and a twinkle in her eye that I managed to ignore.
And now, here we are. An hour and fifteen minutes later, unable to move on the couch and willing the Aleve to teleport itself to the coffeetable with a glass of water.
So, today I had one of those mornings. It started when I overslept–because cold mornings and a warm, cozy bed are a weakness of mine. I finally dragged myself out of bed half-awake (or half-asleep, I guess, depending on your glass) and forgot to put the lid on the blender when I was making the smoothie. Needless to say, I made a mess. Everything was in slow motion and my stomach was acting a little unsettled. So, I opted to wait awhile on breakfast and let it calm down–despite the fact that I am prone to grouchiness on an empty stomach. When Harry left for work, I was hurriedly trying to wrap a birthday present to mail to a friend who’s turning 30 this weekend. Of course I cut the paper too short and I didn’t have time to re-cut more. Perfectionism reared it’s ugly head, but I pushed it back (albeit it to just below the surface to simmer) and let it be. A few minutes later, I threw myself together, while forcing myself to adhere to a strict, self-inflicted schedule and therefore, growing anxious by the minute. (Somehow, I actually did remember my mascara today and I think my clothes actually matched.)
I walked outside to get something out of the car that I needed to do before I could leave and realized that there was frost on the windshield. I brilliantly decided to go ahead and start the car (that was already on E and desperate for gas) so that it would be warm and frost-free once I was ready to leave. When I went back inside to print the maps I needed before I could start my work day, I got an error message from the printer: out of ink. I called my personal technology guru–my husband, of course–and realized that we have a stash of ink cartridges for just such a time as this! The only one in there? Cyan. VERY different from LIGHT cyan, I guess. After practically hanging up on Harry in my anxiety-driven-grouchy-empty-stomach-frustratingly-imperfect-self, I spent the next 30 minutes or so trying to figure out how to get my maps to print. Clearly I didn’t need light cyan to print out directions from point A to point B. But apparently, we have the kind of printer that refuses to print in grayscale even when it’s got plenty of black, but is out of light cyan.
About the time that I finally get all of the directions copied down by hand, breakfast downed and all my things together to walk out the door (about 20 minutes later than I wanted to be), I stop and think Why can’t I hear the car anymore? I say mean things to myself (because that’s what I do when I’m by myself and things don’t go the way I think they should go) and walk outside to discover that God has been merciful. Miraculously ,the car-that-was-on-E-before-it-started-and-should-have-been-well-out-of-gas by now is still running after 30 minutes and had conserved enough gas to even make it to the nearest gas station. I’m thinking that my luck has turned when the pump stops and I see one of the messages that frustrates me more than any other: “Cashier has receipt.” WHAT??? No, people, I don’t pay at the pump so that I can go inside the store and get my receipt. I pay at the pump so that I can get on my way as quickly as possible. And how does the gas pump, or the cashier, or the gas company always know when I’m late? That’s the only time this happens! I mean, I could have left without getting a receipt, but then I would never have remembered to record it and that would have sent me over the edge–you know because I’m clearly calm and collected now.
Well, I was in the car by myself a lot today. So, I had a lot of time to think. I remembered that I had been reading in Jonah and came across something that I wanted to process some more. The word “provided.” In one version I read, God “provided” a fish to swallow Jonah, a vine to give him shade, a worm to eat the vine and uncomfortable, hot weather conditions to make him miss the vine. (In another version, the word is “appointed,” which is even cooler, in some ways.) Ultimately, God provided opportunities for Jonah to acknowledge Him–to turn his attention from his own selfish desires and know Him. I think this is a picture of God’s mercy as well as His discipline.
So, now when I look back on my morning (instead of feeling like nearly everything that could go wrong did), I realize that God provided an ink-less printer, an upset stomach, a nearly empty gas tank, and a slightly inconvenient gas station experience. He provided it ultimately to take my eyes off of myself, to convict me of my idol of control and perfectionism, and to refocus my eyes on Him. That’s merciful! And that’s my God.