When I was a kid our family seldom attempted such trips ... that
had long been a pet peeve of mine ... everyone else’s families took family vacations, but not mine ...
now I just wonder if my dad wasn’t
that much wiser than most. When we
were very little kids and living in Amarillo, TX we belonged to a flying club
... much like boat clubs of today, except with planes. We did travel pretty far and wide in
those days ... I just don’t
remember much of it. What I do
remember is how Dad kept order in the plane ... if either Sheryl or I would get
“out of control,” Dad would simply turn the plane
upside down and instantly terror set in and we became either mute [me] or
hysterical [Sheryl]. And order was
quickly restored. Eventually even
the threat of inverted flying was enough to silence the plane. Sadly, I have yet to find the
car-equivalent condition when hauling our large family around ... whether it be
out to Oklahoma or up to Maine or even Minnesota.
Yes, a day with a car full of kids will teach us a lot about
God. And that analogy I think
holds when it comes to our spiritual journeys. God is, even now, transporting us from our home here on
earth to His in heaven. And just
like our long trips in the car, some of life’s
stormiest hours occur when the passengers and the Driver disagree on the
destination ... or at least the best way to get there.
A journey is a journey, whether the destination be the
Thanksgiving table or the heavenly one.
Both demand patience, a good sense of direction [or at least an accurate
GPS device], and a driver who knows the end of the trip is worth the hassles
involved in getting there. As I
consider what all we encountered say on our trip to and from Minnesota to
Tallahassee via Chicago by Indiana, Kentucky, Tennessee, and Alabama then home
via my old hometown of Keokuk, Iowa and St. Louis, Missouri, I now realize that
our old Ford Expedition had become basically a classroom. We were doing what God had done for
centuries; encouraging travelers who would rather rest and play than ride.
Some similarities that I noted in the journeys:
In order to reach the destination, we have to say no to some
requests.
Can you imagine the outcome if we as parents honored each request each of our children made
during a trip? We would inch our
bloated bellies from one ice cream store to the next. Our priority would be popcorn, candy and boiled peanuts and
our itinerary would read like a fast food menu. Go to the chocolate malt and make a right. Head north until you find the Chili
Cheeseburger. Stay north for 1,300
calories then bear right at the Pizza Hut. When you see
the two-for-one Froyo, take the Alka-Seltzer Turnpike east for five Circle K
stores ...
Can you imagine the chaos if we as parents indulged every
indulgence? Now can you imagine
the chaos if God indulged each of ours?
Sadly, NO is a necessary word to take on such trips. Destination has to reign over Dairy
Queen sundaes.
For God has not destined us to the terrors of judgment, but
to the full attainment of salvation through our Lord Jesus Christ. 1 Thessalonians 5:9
Note God’s
destiny for our lives ... SALVATION.
God’s overarching
desire is that we reach that destiny.
His itinerary includes stops that encourage us on our journey. He frowns on stops that deter us. When His sovereign plan and our earthly
plans collide, a decision must be made.
Who is ultimately in charge of this journey? If God must choose between our earthly satisfaction and our
heavenly salvation, which do you hope He chooses? Yeah, me too!
When I am in the driver’s
seat as the father of my children, I remember that I am in charge. But when I am in the passenger’s seat as a child of my Father,
I forget that He’s in
charge. I forget that God is more
concerned with my destiny than my belly [though my belly is pretty ample these
days]. And I complain when He says
no.
The requests our children made on that long road to and from
northern Minnesota weren’t
evil. They weren’t unfair. They weren’t rebellious.
In fact, we did stop many times along the way, including for a protracted
time in Minneapolis and probably stayed too long at the Mall of America. But most of the requests were
unnecessary. My kids might argue
the fact because to them another frozen yogurt is indispensable to their
happiness. I know otherwise, however,
and say no.
A forty-five year-old adult might also argue the fact. From my standpoint, moving to Colorado or perhaps back to Hawaii was
indispensable to my happiness. God
knew otherwise and said no.
A forty-eight year old woman may decide to hang up the red pen
and call it a teaching career. For
her having more time to spend at home and with friends and family might exactly
be what she needed to be happy. Her
Father, who is more concerned that she arrive at His City than on the couch,
says “Wait a few
miles. There is a better option
down the road.” “Wait!” she protests. “How
long do I have to wait?”
Which takes us to the second similarity between the two
journeys.
Children have no concept of minutes or miles.
“We
will be there in three hours,”
I said. “How long is three hours?” Ariel would pipe in. How do you explain time to a child who can’t tell time anyway?
“Well
it is about as long as three Sesame Street shows.”
I ventured. The kids groan in unison. “Three
Sesame Street shows? That’s forever!” And to them, it is.
And to us, it seems that way too.
"He who lives forever” [Is. 57:15] has placed himself at the head of a band of pilgrims
who mutter, “How
long, O Lord? How long?” [Ps. 74:10; 89:46].
How long must I endure this sickness? How long must I endure this
spouse? How long must I endure
these measly paychecks? Do we
really want God to answer? He
could answer in terms of the here and now with time increments that we know. "Two more years on the
illness." "The rest of your
life in the marriage." Ten
more years in the low paying job."
But He seldom does that. He usually opts to measure the here and now
against the there and then. And
when we compare this life to that life, this life isn't that long.
"Our days on earth are
like a shadow." 1 Chronicles
29:15
"Each man's life is but
a breath." Psalm 39:5
“You
are a mist that appears for a little while and then vanishes." James 4:14
"As for man, his days
are like grass, he flourishes like a flower in the field; the wind blows over
it and it is gone, and its place remembers it no more." Psalm 103:15, 16
"It is a short
journey," I offer to the kids.
"We're almost there."
I know. I have been this
way before. I have driven this
road. I have covered this territory. For me, it is no challenge. Ah, but for the kids, it is eternal.
So I try another approach. "Just think how good it will
be," I depict. "That
mall is so large, it has an amusement park inside it. One with a roller coaster even. And our friends live right on a lake. So you can swim anytime you want. And they even have a boat."
But they still groan. And that takes us to the third
similarity.
Children cannot appropriately
envision the reward.
For me, two days on the road is
a small price to pay to see the sights of Chicago and Minneapolis. I don't mind the drive because I know
the reward. I had three decades of
such trips under my belt. As I
drive, I can almost hear Tom’s
and Kion's voices. Feel the spray
of the water on my face as we ride in the boat. I can endure the journey because I know the destiny. My kids didn't really comprehend
the destiny. After all, they were
very young. Kids easily forget and
it was more abstract than real to them as they had never been to a mall with an
amusement park inside it. Besides,
the road was strange and once it
got dark they couldn't even see where we were going. It was my job as their father to guide them. I try to help them see what they can't
really see. I remind them of the
roller coaster. I tell them the
mall is so big that it has three Gap stores. There is even a cereal store. And it seems to work.
Their grumbling decreases as their vision grows -- as their destiny
unfolds.
Perhaps that is how the apostle
Paul stayed motivated. He had a sharp
vision of the reward.
"Therefore we do not
lose heart. Though outwardly we
are wasting away, yet inwardly we are being renewed day by day. For our light
and momentary troubles are achieving for us an eternal glory that far outweighs
them all. So we fix our eyes not
on what is seen, but on what is unseen.
2 Corinthians 4:16-18
It is not easy to get four kids
under twelve to see a city they can't see. But it is necessary.
One line in this passage in 2 Corinthians always gives me pause, "our
light and momentary troubles." I would not have referred to them as
such if I were the apostle Paul.
Hear what he called light and
momentary and I think you'll
agree: imprisoned; beaten with a
whip five times at 39 lashes each; faced death; beaten with rods three times;
stoned once; shipwrecked three times; stranded in the open sea; left homeless;
in constant danger; hungry and thirsty.
2 Corinthians 11:23-27
Long and trying ordeals
maybe. Arduous and deadly
difficulties, okay. But light and
momentary troubles? Really?!? How could Paul describe a life of
trials with that phrase? He tells
us. He could see an eternal weight
of glory that far outweighed them all.
Can I speak candidly for a
bit? For some in this room, the
journey has been long. Actually very long,
dark and quite stormy. In no way do I
want to minimize what you have gone through. For both Curtis and Cathy parts are almost indescribably painful
... except that they keep bubbling back up to the surface. And it is easy to grow weary. It can be hard to find the City in the
midst of the storms. The desire to
pull over to the side of the road and get out can be enticing. You want to go on, but some days the
road just seems too long. Let me
encourage you with one final parallel in your life's journey and the one I have
been describing to Minnesota.
It is worth it.
Once we arrived, no spoke of the
long trip to get here. No one
mentioned the requests I didn't honor.
No nor grumbled about my foot being on the accelerator when their hearts
were focused on banana splits. No
one complained about the late hour of arrival. That is what Paul means. God never said the journey would be easy and, in fact, none
other than Jesus basically promised it would not be. But he did say the arrival would be worthwhile.
Remember this: God may not do what you want, but He
will do what is right ... and best.
He is the Father of forward motion. Trust Him. He
will get you home. And the trials
of the trip will be lost in the joys of the feast.
