Did you ever play the game "Telephone?"
Just in case you've never been a giggly preteen girl, here's the scoop on how to play:
(1) Gather a group and sit in a circle.
(2) One person will silently concoct a simple phrase (i.e. "I want some banana bread") and then whisper the phrase in the ear of the person to the left.
(3) The phrase is then whispered from person to person until it reaches the last member of the circle. Only one repeat per person is allowed (via saying "Operator"), but after that, whatever you think you have heard, you pass on.
(4) The last person must announce the phrase out loud, which is usually a far cry from the original message.
My older sister taught me how to play, and I would get so tickled when she would tell me how distorted phrases would get in the rounds she played with her friends. I loved it when she regaled me with the tale of how her original message of "Bring me some figgy pudding" somehow eventually translated into "Nebuchadnezzar is a butt."
Ahh, elementary school humor.
Sure, it can demonstrate how powerful and out-of-hand a mere piece of gossip can get, but what strikes a more resonant chord with me is how easily the truth gets lost.
The past couple of weeks, I've allowed little bumps and bristles to steer my mind off track. Nothing truly dire or significant has transpired, but minor annoyances--surprising things about my new health insurance that will cost us more money when June arrives, a brand new phone that my clumsy mitts managed to destroy days after our warranty expired, a second back order for our crib that postponed its arrival for an additional three months (which would be a full month after Harlow is born)--have me feeling a bit chaotic.
Yesterday, I was tempted to throw a mild fit when another inconvenience was mounted onto the pile. I paced back and forth around the living room, choking back the ugliness I wanted to vocalize in my momentary anger. Instead, I opted to shift the blame toward the easiest Target.
God, can't you just cut me a little break here?
I desire perfection from my life's circumstances on a daily basis, and I'll admit I feel much like the cloud of dust that engulfs the Tasmanian Devil when things aren't "just so."
And when my circumstances make me feel out of control, I often accuse God of not being in control of my situation.
Chaos must mean He's lost the reins. He's dropped me. He must not be protecting me anymore.
Often, when my life feels out of sorts, it affects my ability to get a good night's rest. I'll toss and turn and mull over the "what ifs" and "what do I do nows." But every now and then, when I anticipate the arrival of a restless night, I'll hum the tune of one of my favorite songs from choir, "Thou, O Lord."
I cried unto the Lord with my voice,
And He heard me out of His holy hill.
I laid me down and slept and awaked.
For the Lord sustained,
The Lord sustained me.
One night recently as I pondered these words, I remembered that they come directly from Psalm 3. I hoisted Dru's study Bible from the nightstand onto my lap and flipped vigorously to the brief passage.
Lord, how my foes increase!
There are many who attack me.
Many say about me,
"There is no help for him in God."
But You, Lord, are a shield around me,
my glory, and the One who lifts up my head.
I cry aloud to the Lord,
and He answers me from His holy mountain.
I lie down and sleep;
I wake again because the Lord sustains me.
I am not afraid of the thousands of people
who have taken their stand against me on every side.
Rise up, Lord!
Save me, my God!
You strike all my enemies on the cheek;
You break the teeth of the wicked.
Salvation belongs to the Lord,
may Your blessing be on Your people.
(Psalm 3)
The part I've placed in bold (verses 5-6) had an interesting note beneath it:
"To lie down and sleep are poetic and tangible ways to describe a state of security. Only a person who feels secure will be able to sleep undisturbed by troubling thoughts ... The psalmist was confident that he would wake again because it is Yahweh Himself who sustained him. The psalmist's security was unrelated to his circumstances even though he was surrounded by enemies. Confidence in God's protection does not depend on one's circumstances." (Holman Christian Standard Bible Study Bible)
Oh, how quickly I tend to forget this vital piece of truth.
Four years ago, Steven Curtis Chapman and his family said good bye to one of their precious adopted daughters following a tragic car accident. Because I went to school with his kids and heard the ambulances from my church the night it happened, I, like much of our community, was captivated by the story. It made national news, seemingly reported on every blog from here to Timbuktu.
Many came out in droves to support the Chapman family. Others were less than kind.
Knowing what devout Christians they are, many hurled violent, distasteful comments at this grieving family.
Where is your God now? they wrote.
Just like "Telephone's" circumstances can alter an original message, oh how often do we let our circumstances color what God has told us to be true:
I will never leave you or forsake you...
Even though I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death, I will fear no evil, for You are with me...
I will not leave you as orphans. I will come to you...
The second things get rough, we let our circumstances shrink God's sovereignty, His grace, His mercy, His protection. We deem Him not strong enough, not good enough.
Do we really believe that?
If we don't, then we need to stop acting like we do.
In a recent sermon at our church, our pastor cited a quote from The Chronicles of Narnia--an allegorical series written by C.S. Lewis.
The quote concerned Aslan, the story's lion, mighty king of the magical world of Narnia, and a metaphor for Christ.
One character asks frighteningly about the nature of Aslan in the first book, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, questioning, "Is he safe?"
The response? "'Safe?' said Mr. Beaver. 'Who said anything about safe? Course he isn't safe! But he's good. He's the King, I tell you.'"
Did you get that?
God's goodness has nothing to do with our circumstances.
Zero.
What we seem to have set in place instead of the promise of God's unwavering goodness is that if we love and trust Him, things will always be easy.
He never said that. He never promised that. Not once.
At some point, we will all experience undesirable circumstances.
But if we trust Him, if we follow Him--we don't have to do it by ourselves. He is with us.
That's the truth we overlook.
"Telephone" never could alter the fact that the original message was said.
And no matter how much we twist and distort it, bend it and tweak it--God's truth will remain the same.
But to whom do you choose to listen? The fickle group? Those fickle circumstances?
Or the One Who said it in the first place?
But Thou, O Lord, are a shield for me...
I will lie down.
I will sleep.
I will wake again.
For You sustain me.
Thou, O Lord, I choose you.
"The Lord himself goes before you and will be with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged." ~Deuteronomy 31:8
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