surprises

or blessings unexpected

In mid-November, Banu and I made the trip from New York to Tennessee. With a hefty truckload of possessions, we anticipated plenty of room in my mom’s basement and garage. Such was not the case. An unanticipated flurry of activity ensued. Our stay at the house will be longer than planned, the reason for which will become clear in a moment.

We purchased a Frigidaire refrigerator at Lowe’s on Black Friday. (By the way, I dislike that fabricated holiday, with its nakedly commercial nature.) It was delivered on Sunday. A couple of days later, we noticed the refrigerator section was too cold. Items were freezing. Later, the freezer was too warm. A series of repair techs have visited. Long story short, it has been determined the unit is unfixable and needs to be replaced. To say Frigidaire was dragging its feet would be kind.

I realize in the grand scheme of things a faulty appliance doesn’t rank very high.

On New Year’s Day, my mother suffered a stroke. She was in the hospital for a week, then transferred to a rehab center. She came home on Thursday (the 8th) and needs care 24 hours per day.

Obviously in the surprises we have experienced, my mother’s health bears no comparison.

Our goal of a stay for a few months before moving to Florida to establish our ministry on a permanent basis is (as noted) a can being kicked down the road.

And yet, blessings unexpected… But can my mother’s plight contain any kind of blessing?

As for us, we have been forced to slow down, and there are blessings unexpected. We embody the lesson in the epistle of James. “You do not even know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, ‘If the Lord wishes, we will live and do this or that’” (4:14–15). Admittedly, the next verse speaks of “[boasting] in your arrogance.” Maybe we can take it as a word to the wise!

Perhaps the sentiments of the song by Kansas apply. “Same old song / Just a drop of water in an endless sea / All we do / Crumbles to the ground, though we refuse to see / Dust in the wind / All we are is dust in the wind.” What a blessing such awareness can be.

Here’s a comment on the YouTube site for the official video of “Dust in the Wind.” It comes from someone named Yazeed [listed as @Zee44000]. “This song ain’t depressing, it’s liberating. It reminds us, our impermanence isn’t a curse, it’s a call to live every moment like a precious jewel, sparkling in the sunlight before it fades.”

We also have the perhaps less confrontational word in Psalm 46:10. (That is, less confrontational than the one in James). “Be still, and know that I am God! I am exalted among the nations; I am exalted in the earth.”

The call to slow down wouldn’t seem to be a big challenge for me. I’ve never been one to run at a frenetic pace. Still, slowing down is much more than observed behavior, which applies to both outward and inward behavior. It applies to prayer and how it shapes — or doesn’t shape — us. There is what is known as the “monkey mind.” We swing from branch to branch. Our mind constantly races. Thoughts fly through, which is to be expected. But we need not hang on to them with a death grip and see where they take us.

The “be still” from the psalm takes work. I have plenty of it to do!

During this ordeal another blessing unexpected is that the Lord has bathed us in grace: Banu and myself and my sister Kristen, who has a long history with Mom.

Learning to slow down also means learning to wait. We so often hear of waiting on the Lord. There is great wisdom and humility in that. Learning to slow down — truly waiting on the Lord — means the opening of one’s eyes. It requires effort and joy.

As the word suggests, surprises indicate the unknown. That can be scary, really scary. Still, by shutting the door to the unknown, we become stuck. We become fossilized. And it won’t be too long before we become “an old fossil”!

And so, we pause. A door is opened, a path is presented, to new learning, to new action. It is a surprise, a blessing unexpected to we who are mist, we who are dust.