There's a Safety Pin Holding My Pants Shut

I've had the privilege of sharing my testimony a handful of times over the past few years. One of those times, I opened with this line: "There's a safety pin holding my pants shut."

I couldn't help it. For starters, it was true. I really had busted the closure on my favorite pair of trouser jeans, and as nervous as I was, wasn't about to wear anything but the clothes I loved most -- broken or not. On my way up to the podium, I had an overwhelming sense that I might give the women in the audience the impression that my life is easy, breezy perfect. A succinctly edited 30 minute narrative could certainly give that impression, particularly when there's a happy ending like Josiah and Isaiah, my boys, on display.

So, I told them about the safety pin holding my pants shut.

The point behind that safety pin comes up often. It's in my conversations with a dear friend who's struggling to be a godly mother and wife alongside a husband who doesn't share her faith. "You just don't know the blessings you have," she'll always say. It's prevalent in the underlying views of another dear friend, who's leveled me more than once during discussions about marriage when she says, "You and Andy just don't have the problems the rest of us do." It rises up again when still another dear friend, who wishes she could quit her job and be home with her kids full-time says, "You have no idea have good you've got it."

Actually, I do. I'm desperately grateful to my Father for blessing so abundantly someone as truly undeserving as me. Everywhere I turn, I'm confronted with yet another way my Father has chosen to demonstrate His love for me. It makes me shake my head in wonder more than a few times a day.

This summer our pastor has been teaching out of Genesis during Sunday school. He's focusing solely on chapters 12 through 24, the life of Abraham. Last week we lighted on chapter 16, which opens with this revealing information: "Now Sarai, Abram's wife, had borne him no children. But she had an Egyptian maidservant named Hagar; so she said to Abram, 'The Lord has kept me from having children. Go, sleep with my maidservant, perhaps I can build a family through her.'"

No pastor can bring up Genesis 16 without mentioning the all-consuming nature of the I-word -- infertility. Pastor Randy was no different, and while he thoroughly outlined the cultural significance of bearing children and the unending cycle of anticipation and disappointment, I did the same thing I usually do -- I forced my face blank, which isn't all that easy since Sarai-turned-Sarah and I are kindred spirits, laughing and all.

My face didn't remain blank long. As Pastor Randy's message unfolded, his overall point nearly made my jaw drop because of its piercingly accurate truth: focusing on the one thing God has withheld from us becomes an obsession, the likes of which we cannot see anything else through. It distorts our vision to the point we overlook the safety pin holding the pants together.

We see perfection instead of real people living real lives fraught with real consequences. Sarah saw Hagar that way, a genius solution to a lifelong problem. The maidservant was swiftly thrust into the drama as Abram's second wife and things went sour when Hagar became pregnant. She lorded the forthcoming child over Sarah. Sarah, in turn, lashed out at Abram and mistreated Hagar.

I've wondered since Pastor Randy's message if things might have been different for Sarah if she had been able to focus on the blessings God had already given her. God's plan wasn't thwarted in the least by her grumbling -- she still received the long-awaited child --, but perhaps her life before Isaac could have been less painful. I'll never know, but I do know that my friends are right -- I am extremely blessed. More than they or anyone else could know. Like Sarah, my greatest blessings have been born from my greatest heartaches. I suspect Sarah and I aren't the only ones.

I'll most likely keep spilling the beans about things like the safety pin holding my pants shut. It's my way of preventing others -- and myself -- from thinking that I've got it all together. It's a challenge not to focus on the thing God has withheld in your life -- like a working zipper --, but giving thanks for the things He has provided -- like a spiffy pair of jeans -- goes a long way to keeping our vision fixed where it singularly belongs -- on Jesus.

Why I Need Grace #1

So the kids and I were out driving this afternoon. Almost a daily occurance, it seems. How have things gotten so busy? What happened to the lazy days of summer?  :)

Anyway, we were stopped at a light and once we started moving again, I could see that the person in the lane next to me wanted to get over.  She had her blinker on, which helped immensely in my determining she wanted to change lanes.  Amazing how that works, isn't it??  haha  I wish everyone had the sense, or courtesy, to use their blinker to tell the world what they were doing! 


So I slowed up a bit so there was plenty of space for her to get over; and, that she did.  She even waved an ackward backwards armed kind of 'Thank You' to me.  At this point I could have basked in the joy of being a good witness, of showing God's love through the kindness of letting a person squeeze into a congested lane of traffic. 

"So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets."  (Matthew 7:12 NIV)

But no.

What did I do instead?

Well, the lane opened up ahead of me because everyone was moving over into the turning lane.  So I saw an opportunity to catch up and drive by her - so she can have the opportunity to see the fish on the back of my van. 

Yes, I have a fish on the back of my van.  And, I'm not the World's Most Perfect Driver either.  Not a good combination I am aware.  Have I had to cut people off?  Yes.  Have I driven over the speed limit?  Yes.  Have I gotten in an accident?  Yes ( a 4 car pile-up, none the less). 
 
I'm not usually conciously thinking about waving my 'fishy flag' around, so I don't know what my deal was today.  Maybe because of my history of poorly using the fish on the back of my van I wanted to redeem myself a little bit by showing this gal that yes, people with fish on the back of their vehicles were nice people. Did I have to speed a little to 'catch up' to her?  Unfortunately, yes a little bit.  That's when I realized I just cancelled myself out, in a sense.  Oh dear. 


For everything in the world--the cravings of sinful man, the lust of his eyes and the boasting of what he has and does--comes not from the Father but from the world. (1 John 2:16 NIV)



Thank you, God, for the grace You so freely give me.  Even when I fail You so miserably.