Finding God In a Coffee Cup

I remember sitting in a rocking chair in Haiti about a year ago. I was there to attempt bringing home Eden Kristy. It was hot, as usual. I was on my third week of being there. I don't know how many useless trips to the embassy I had endured, flights through cypberspace or near desperate calls to government offices back home. Countless is probably a good number. All this after already trudging through 3 1/2 years worth of red tape, endless waiting and general misery. As I sat in that chair the helplessness of it all sunk deep down inside me like never before. I was truly mystified, befuddled, angry, and once again, pretty self-centered.

I did have my coffee though! Coffee equaled comfort at that time. I didn't have much comfort, but coffee did the trick every time. As I sat there, sure enough, another little orphan boy sprang for my attention. Don't get me wrong, I love kids, but I was there on a mission. I so wanted to swoop in, grab my kid, and swoop on home again as fast as possible. Enough is enough already! My patience for needy children had worn completely out. I found myself avoiding them as much as possible. But this kid wanted to play ball.

I decided to toss the ball with this little brat despite my growing aversion. At least it was something to do through the wait and the heat. I placed my coffee cup in the perfect out-of-the-way spot. It was protected. Only the hand of God could penetrate the maze of protective barriers I made sure was between the kid and me. We tossed a few times, and then I saw it. I saw a look of determination that impressed me. This three year old was going fire that ball over the balcony with all his might. I was excited to see what kind of velocity he could muster and that the game of catch would soon end. He reared back to throw and let loose. Well, he held on a bit too long. Somehow, the ball came back toward me under his arm, along the floor, around my leg, past the chair, off the wall and, you guessed it, into my coffee cup.

With my comfort spilled all over the floor, I had had enough. I was at the breaking point. I wanted to scream. But it was just then that I found God in the coffee cup. As I considered the odds of that kid managing such a direct hit, I realized something that saved my life that day. I realized that if something as amazing as that could happen, then anything could happen. God's peace trickled down over me and welled up within me. It was within an hour that I got the news it was time to go home. Eden's visa was finally approved.

Jimy is home now too. We've just celebrated a whole year with both our new kids. Maybe that is why I have been away for a while. Life has been a little bit hectic! Things are going great though. We are all adjusting, oh, and drinking lots of coffee! Thanks for all your prayers and support!

I Can Fix This

I love the story about the enthusiastic young plumber who took one look at Niagara Falls and said, "hmmm, I think I can fix this". Lately, I am pretty sure that is what I have been trying to do. I have been looking at the broken areas of my life, my family, my calling and saying, "I think I can fix this." The problem is, whatever fixing I have been up to on my own has been merely a quick fix. It's like fixing an airplane with duct tape. As great as duct tape is, if you try to fix an airplane with it, eventually that plane is gonna come down with a great crash. Maybe you can relate?

There's another story told by Brennan Manning in his book, The Ragamuffin Gospel, which I highly recommend. Manning credits the story to Morton Kelsey. In the story, a man on a journey comes to the edge of an abyss. As he wrestles with what to do next, he is amazed to notice a tightrope stretched across the abyss. Slowly but surely, he sees an acrobat creeping along on the tightrope pushing a wheelbarrow with another performer in it. When they finally reach solid ground, the acrobat smiled at the man's amazement. "Don't you think I can do that again?" he asked. The man replied, "Why yes, certainly I believe you can." The acrobat asked the man again to be sure the answer would be the same. When it was, he pointed to the wheelbarrow and said, "Good! Then get in and I will take you across."

Here's the thing. I don't want to fix my life with duct tape. I want to be fixed by the grace and power of my Lord. He is the only one I trust to push me along the tightrope of life in my own little wheelbarrow. I have discovered that when I struggle with where God has put me, I cannot patch that struggle up with duct tape. Instead, I have to patch it up with belief in the only one that can fix it from the inside out. As Paul says, "I have learned the secret of being content in whatever the circumstances... I can do all things through Him who strengthens me" (Philippians 4:11, 13). You could translate that a bit differently: "I can do all things through Him who pushes the wheelbarrow". It's scary, but better than duct tape.