Marcia and I took a tour of several Amish country stores in Northern Iowa. They were recommended by one of my nurses so we thought it would be a good day trip on the way to our “Mayo Clinic vacation.” Traversing the muddy country roads, we came across a number of Amish buggies, including one driven by a very young boy presumably taking his even younger siblings home from school. Wherever we looked, everything spoke “Amish” to us: the horse-drawn buggies, the conservative and modest dress, clothes hanging on the line, draft horses pulling wagons or tied to the post at the general store, waiting for their owner to return from his tasks. It all fit together perfectly. . . except one item tucked in amidst the large bags of bulk flour, the containers of bulk spices, and the “penny” candy display:
Amish Country MICROWAVE Popcorn.
The package pictures a horse-drawn buggy returning to a rustic Amish Farm, of course with NO electricity running to the house! I pictured a quiet scene of an Amish family sitting around their fireplace, telling stories and recalling the events of the day, while cooking Microwave Popcorn. It gave me a chuckle because it didn’t seem to fit in.
I notice, my life is sometimes like that too. Our road trip was delayed after spending nearly two hours communicating between medical providers and insurance company. Again, authorizations for various tests weren’t completed. As I drove to Minnesota, I could feel the frustration tensing up my neck muscles. My brow was furloughed by the worry of wondering if I would be denied critical testing due to unnecessary bureaucratic red tape. Disappointment and even a bit of anger rose up within me. It wasn’t that I was in a rage or anything like that. And ultimately I understood that everything will work out. I’ll get tests back in Iowa if needed. I maintained a calm demeanor throughout the multiple conversations after being transferred from one agent to another. But I realized, “Something doesn’t belong here.”
Christians aren’t perfect. We don’t have our act together all the time. We have real emotions that accompany real disappointments just like anyone else. But we are also called to be different, set apart. It’s one thing to experience a bit of frustration or to have concern for something that isn’t right. It’s quite another to dwell there and let it hang like a dark cloud over the whole day.
Like the Amish Microwave Popcorn or the “three are the same – one is different” game my grandchildren play, some things “don’t belong” in a life of faith. That is to say, they shouldn’t characterize our response.
Anger crowds out love. Dissatisfaction impedes joy. Worry defeats peace. Demanding overpowers patience. Self-concern shoves away kindness and goodness. Over-assertiveness crushes gentleness. Insisting on my own way casts faithfulness aside. And impulsiveness drowns self-control.
As I reflect on how many things God has shown me during this unexpected journey through cancer – his mercy, love, and faithfulness to name just a few – I’m aware of how this journey is shaping me lIke the clay on the potter’s wheel. And still, for as long as you and I live these human lives, there will be some things that don’t belong. Things like pervasive worry, dominating fear, and persistent anxiety contradict the faith we claim. True, we will likely experience all these and other negative, unproductive and harmful emotions at one time or another. But if we dwell in them, it becomes clear that It’s time to put off the things that don’t belong and put on the attitudes that reflect who we are meant to be.
It’s time to trade our sorrows for the joy of the Lord, anxiety for peace, fear for assurance, and a demanding character for one that his more gentle and humble, patient and kind, governed by self-control. What doesn’t belong in your life? Give it up and let God replace it with something better.
