So, something happened on Sunday that I have been thinking non-stop about for three days, and I think that my head might explode if I don't get it written down. Don't get too excited; it's nothing earth-shattering or life-changing.
(Or is it?)
Here is the set-up: it's Sunday afternoon and I have left a puttering Thomas and snoozing Lillian and shedding Sullivan behind at the house while I hit up the grocery store for what is hopefully the only time this week. Grocery stores on Sunday afternoons are not for the faint of heart--they are crowded and the air smells slightly of anxieties about money and time and
oh is this enough chicken or should I get two packs and
will my kid eat this risotto or should I just buy box mac and cheese again? Usually I shop on Monday mornings to avoid the crowds, but we needed something for Sunday night, so off to the store I went. A few harried minutes later and I had checked out and was unloading food into the back of my car (sidebar: food is expensive and I am always stressed when I leave because I have inevitably spent more than I want to--produce is expensive and oh my word have you seen ice cream prices lately??). I grab out the second-to-last bag and wait a minute! This bag is taller than anything I purchased and it crinkles. Lo and behold there is a bottle of wine in my cart that I did not purchase. Hmm. Several things pop immediately into my head:
-I should totally take this home! Lillian knocked over a bottle last week and this would replace it! It's perfect! The store will never miss it and no one will know.
-I should take this back inside. I didn't buy it; therefore it's not mine and I shouldn't keep it.
-Trudging back across the parking lot would be a lot of work. It's really hot. I should keep it. I can just slide it into the pantry and Thomas will have no idea.
-Absurdly (Comically? Providentially?), an awards ceremony from my childhood
kamp jumps into my head along with the definition of integrity: doing the right thing when no one is looking. Sigh. I should take it back because it's the right thing to do.
-In a bizarre mix of the two, I envision a scenario in which I take the wine back inside and the manager gives it to me
as a reward for doing the right thing since she's sure the customer won't come back for it. Wow. Bizarre.
I'm sure you're on the edge of your seats now, so I will keep you in suspense no longer. I took the bottle back in, the manager took it from me with a quick apology, and I walked back across the hot parking lot to my car and drove home. I was angry at myself. Why had I taken the bottle back in? What would the harm have been? Why is doing the right thing so important, anyways? And for that matter, what is the right thing--wouldn't it have benefited me more to take the bottle?
Why wasn't I rewarded for my good choice?
Looking back, this two minute incident revealed a lot about my theology and my approach to life, most of which is totally scary and not good. (sidebar:
This book is also peeling away a lot of layers in my life. I definitely recommend it.) As I stood in that parking lot with that brown bag wrapped bottle of wine, I imagined God looking down from waaaaay above me, saying with pride, "Wow she's going to make the right choice and I am going to love her more for it!" Now that is completely messed-up theology and
I know that. God doesn't love use more for our choices. Period. In fact, He
can't love us more based on what we do. That has been drilled into me for years in various Bible studies and confirmed by my own reading of the Bible. But somehow I am entrenched in this merit-based point system of some kind, like I need to make good choices so that God will love me and so that I can impress people. Listen up folks: THAT IS NOT THE GOSPEL. That is not Christianity, even though I think it looks like that from the outside sometimes and Christians often tend to "live there." I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one who does, anyway.
Balancing the law and grace is tricky and much smarter people than me have written countless books on what this looks like. But for me, right now, the point is that I need to trust Christ more, to revel in His beauty and grace and to be impressed by who He is. Not by who I am. Obedience will fall in line and my choices will reflect this.
And this is how Lillian will come to know of Jesus and hopefully to know Him. This quotation by Antoine de Saint Exupery (
The Little Prince, anyone?) sums it up for me:
"If you want to build a ship, don't drum up the men to gather wood,
divide the work and give orders. Instead, teach them to yearn for the
vast and endless sea."
That's what I hope and pray for Lillian, that she would see a
grace-reveling and
grace-revealing mom who yearns to follow Christ with her whole life.
And being obedient is not always going to be easy or comfortable or result in free bottles of wine. If I tithe extra, it doesn't mean that a magical check is going to come in the mail the next month. The Lord will provide, but it may not be how I expect. Going on mission trips doesn't mean my kids won't get sick or loved ones won't die or any of hundreds of other scenarios. If you know C.S. Lewis' Narnia series, you'll recognize the quotation about Aslan: "he's not a safe lion." But he's good. And this is why it is okay to trust Him--if you don't believe that God is good, then why in the world would you ever trust Him?
If you stuck with me through this looong and pictureless post, bravo! Feel free to leave me a comment if you so desire. I promise to have more pictures in the next post.
