| Sunny Side Up Sept. 27, 2006 �2006, Kathleen Gibson One day at a time, sweet Jesus Do you ever wish God would crash into your living room, like the people from Publisher's Clearing House, and present a large manila envelope for your brief inspection? Inside, you'd find a detailed, to-scale map of the best possible roads for your life's journey. From birth to death. Before he left (in a whirlwind, of course) you'd know some things, for sure, for sure. Who hasn't wished for a heavenly glimpse of that 'divine best' picture of their life? I know I have. From that day on, we'd remember all the right turns to take. Who to befriend or ignore. Which obstacles to avoid. Which opportunities to embrace or reject, which corridors to steer clear of. No uncertainty, ever again. Or not. Something has helped me understand that God has good reasons for not barging into our living rooms, envelope in hand. While traveling one summer, our car passed a sign advertising a corn maze. "I've always wanted to do that," someone said. We turned in. The Preacher and I felt as excited as our kids�would have been, had they not already grown up and abandoned us. Before entering the maze we studied the aerial map at the entry. The path through the corn revealed the detailed outline of a paddle-wheeler. "No problem," the Preacher said. We entered a narrow corridor between rustling cornstalks much higher than our heads, so thick we couldn't see through the loop-backs a few feet over. All the way we kept remembering that map, trying to picture where we were and which way to turn. "We're in the wheel, now," the Preacher said. I disagreed. "Uh, uh, I don't think so. Look, here's a right angle. A paddlewheel doesn't have a square corner!" He harrumphed. He harrumphed rather a lot in that maze - we both did. We hit a lot of dead ends, too. We'll never get out, I thought (almost prepared to blubber about it) when we spotted a viewing platform. We clambered up. The Preacher stretched his long arm over the trillion tassels below. He reminded me of Moses, parting the Red Sea. "There's the barns. We came in there and we'll go out there." Then I really wanted to cry. The barns sat a half-mile away and I saw no paths. The 'higher view' only frustrated me. We exited eventually, still friends. But since then I have new appreciation for God's habit of giving his followers - through prayer and regular Bible reading - only enough guidance for one step, one corner, one day at a time. "Do not worry about tomorrow," Jesus said, "for tomorrow will worry about itself! Each day has enough trouble of its own." In other words� "People, don't kink your neck straining for a better view. And don't worry or complain when the end seems distant or the path unclear. God knows your maze, and he'll lead you out!" See you at the other end. Respond Home |
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