essays 242-249

1. #249 Lessons from the Plateau
2. #248 Pitiful Purple Petunias
3. #247 Sitting by the Teacher
4. #246 Kvetching
5. #245 Clock Watchers
6. #244 Swear not at All
7. #243 Four-Wheel Drive Faith
8. #242 Sopping up the Mess

Have you ever tried to lose weight? Ever started a diet or exercise regimen? If you’ve dieted or exercised for any length of time, you’ve probably hit a plateau. You know what I mean. First results of your efforts are dramatic, but then comes the day, out of the blue, when the scale stops. It had been almost fun to weigh yourself at the beginning because ever day or so there would be a new, exciting, maybe even dramatically lower number to read. What happened? You are still following the program but the scale seems to be stuck. You’ve hit a plateau. How discouraging. It is not as though you’ve cheated—much--you’ve faithfully cut those portions, faithfully exercised and yet, it seems you are no better off than if you had eaten that whole piece of pie and skipped a whole week of working out. That is the time—when you can’t see any progress—that you have to just hang in there and not give up. Those inches will still come off; just not as rapidly as at first. Maybe it is time to work out a bit more strenuously, lift some heavier weights, walk a little faster, get off that plateau. And stop stepping on that scales every day.

There are other plateaus in life as well. When we read people’s biographies, it is mostly about their mountaintop and valley experiences. Who wants to read about a bunch of boring plateau days: I woke up, ate, worked, slept, woke up again. Same ol’, same ol’. We don’t want to read about plateaus, we want the dramatic mountains and valleys. But most of life is not very high or low. Most of life is lived in the middle, on the plateaus.

It is the same with one’s spiritual life as well. Those spiritual highs are great; those times when we feel so close to God, it is as if heaven has come down and touched our soul. And those low times are times of great spiritual growth, even though they are painful. When all our outward supports are cut off, we have no choice but to reach out to God. He then is able to be our great Rock and comfort. But what about the in between times that take up so much of life? Not spiritual highs, not spiritual lows, they are more like spiritual "blahs". I’ve been there. Life is neither good nor bad, it is just there. Are there really lessons to be learned from the plateaus? Yes. The plateaus are where spiritual toughness and character kick in. You learn not just to have faith but to be faithful. Call it everyday faithfulness. No one has to remind you to read your Bible and pray when you are in a valley time of life, it just comes naturally. No one has to tell you to thank and praise God when you are on one of those mountaintops. But it takes more effort when you have the spiritual blahs.

That is the time when you may need to change your routine. Use your concordance and look up all the verses you can find on trust or faith or some other topic. Read a short book of the Bible (or even a long one) straight through. Start a prayer journal and record those blah feelings of yours, talk to God about them. And thank God for the time of rest that comes with plateaus. Mountains and valleys are emotionally draining. . Maybe the plateau is a place to recharge those batteries, regroup, and re-evaluate where you are spiritually. Plateaus can be a time of preparation; you need that. Because sooner or later, when you least expect it, another one of those mountains or valleys is going to spring up right in front of you.

Lori Fiechter
June 20, 2000

For Mother’s Day, I brought in a dozen purple petunias for our class of fourth grade girls. I cut apart the ugly black plastic flats; the girls would cover the plastic with pretty tissue paper and ribbon. I didn’t wait until the last minute to buy them; I was afraid that flowers would be picked over by Mother’s Day. So I bought the petunias two weeks early. I hate petunias. I wanted to get pansies again, but they were picked over and anemic looking. When I bought the petunias, they at least looked healthy. Until that wind storm.

I had the petunias outside on the north side of our house, next to our concrete steps. I thought they’d be protected from the wind and from too much sun. I faithfully watered them every day. I should’ve brought them inside when I saw the wind picking up. I thought they were safe. Maybe the blooms would have fallen off anyway in two weeks. Maybe some of them would’ve had torn petals without the wind’s help. Maybe I should have gone out and bought all new flowers. Maybe I should have let my co-teacher do the flower buying.

As it was, I took the sorry-looking blooms to our class. I put them in a cardboard box and taped up the sides to protect them from the current wind. As if they could look any worse. My husband glanced inside the box and asked, "Are they still alive?" It is a good thing I have such a class of sweet girls. When I explained what happened, several of them even requested, "the ones without any flowers." Bless their hearts. They did ask, though, "Will they bloom again?" Oh, yes, they may look pinched and bare, but if you plant them carefully and water them faithfully, they’ll bloom again.

Have you ever felt as though you will never bloom again? The winds have buffeted you so harshly, so relentlessly, that it is all you can do to stay rooted. The bloom is gone, the stems are bent, the leaves wind-burnt. You can’t think about blooming, you just have to think about holding on, just holding on. You don’t even dare to hope for better days.

Trust the gardener. He is much better than I was to my plants. He won’t let you perish; He has promised you that in His word. He won’t let you drown in your problems; He won’t let the fires of adversity consume you. He will be with you, no matter what. (Isaiah 43:1,2) He is your refuge and strong tower, your hiding place from the wind and tempest, your rock and your shade. (Psalm46; Isaiah 32:1,2) He will not let you fall. (Jude 24)

You will bloom again.

Lori Fiechter
May 17, 2000

#247 Sitting by the Teacher

To our Sunday School class of fourth-grade girls, it is still considered a privilege to sit by the teacher. I'm not sure that boys would feel the same way; I know my sons wouldn't. But this past Sunday, two of the girls in my class (there are twelve girls in all) asked me before we went up to the classroom if they could sit by me. It wasn't my week to teach, so I said I would. However, by the time I made it into the classroom (after my stint at the drinking fountain), there was no room next to them. There was just one empty seat--on the opposite side of the table; I went there. This is what happened next: neither girl complained that I wouldn't be sitting by them, but each reacted differently. The first girl had an attitude of quiet acceptance; the second picked up her chair, walked around the table, and squeezed in beside me.

In my mind, I commended the first girl for being patient and accepting, but the more I thought about it, the second girl was to be just as commended. Now, I don't know about their motivation--did they really want to be close to me because they liked me, or were they jockeying for a position of prestige? I had to think about Jesus and his inner circle of disciples, Peter, James and John. James and John had asked to sit (it was their mother who asked for them in Matthew's accoun) one on the right hand, and one on the left of Jesus when he came into his kingdom. This was around the same time the disciples were bickering among themselves about who would be the greatest, so I doubt their motivation was entirely pure.

But about Peter and John, it is certain that they both loved Jesus dearly; they just expressed their love differently. Peter was impulsive, the man of action; he had to be doing something. Sort of like the girl who picked up her chair to sit by me. John, the disciple of love, seemed to have a quieter devotion (although I could be way off base here, he was, after all, a "son of thunder"). Peter boldly declared that he was ready to go with Jesus into prison and to death; he cut off Malchus' ear trying to defend Jesus from those who came to arrest Him. John followed Jesus into the palace of the high priest when Jesus was on trial. We know that John was also nearby at the cross, because Jesus committed His own mother into John's care there. Two very different men; two different styles of trying to prove their own love.

I love both of those girls uniquely--because of, not in spite of, their differences. And I like to think that God loves us as unique individuals as well. He doesn't expect us to show love to Him in exactly the same way. (How boring a worship that would be.) He created us differently and He loves those differences! He understands our own personal language of love. For some, it is easy to express love to the Father by words, for others in songs, for others in working with their hands, for others by their care for His creation, for others by loving His children. I'm sure you can think of many more ways. God doesn't love us as a mass of teeming humanity; He loves us by name, one by one by one.

How will you show your love for Him today?

Lori Fiechter
March 2, 2000

#246 Kvetching

Are you a complainer? A whiner? A pessimist? Let's kvetch together. I know that I am a negative person, but I usually complain with my tongue in cheek. I never realized that other people might not catch the element of irony and exaggeration. For instance:

I'm one of the regulars in our church sewing circle. We meet twice a month, from 7-9PM to work on projects such as knotted comforters, baby blankets, and hospital bibs. We were just finishing up the terry cloth bibs last week. When one sews with terry cloth, there are a lot of fuzzies that fly up the nose and stick to clothes. I had just sneezed and then made some derogatory comment about the bibs. The young mother next to me remarked,
"That's the first I've heard you complain tonight, Lori." (As if I'd just set some sort of record.)

I said, "What do you mean, is that so unusual?"

She said, "I just know how you dislike sewing bibs."

I said, (good-naturedly, at least in my mind)
'If you miss my complaining so much, just say so. I have a whole well-spring of complaints from which to draw. All I have to do is dip in my bucket and pull out a few."
I was on a roll and yet, some of these women were still taking me seriously.

"What sort of things make you complain?"

"Oh, driving on snowy roads, looking for dead birds in the smelly chicken house, cleaning up egg messes, that sort of thing."

When I got home that night, my attitude was more sober. Do people really see me as a habitual complainer, even when I just mean it in fun? Can't they tell when I'm exaggerating? Can't I tell when I've overdone it? Maybe my speech is salted enough; what I need is some sugar. How about you? Can you stop that complaint today before it wriggles out of your mouth? Complaining can be an addictive pleasure but it is not pleasurable to those who have to listen to it.
Ask God to sweeten--not your breath, but your tongue today.

Lori Fiechter
February 9, 2000

"But I say unto you, swear not at all...but let your communication be, Yea, yea; Nay, nay: for whatsoever is more than these cometh of evil." Matthew 5:34,37. See also James 5:12

#243 Four-Wheel Drive Faith

I don't like driving on snowy roads. It is better now that we have a 4-wheel drive vehicle but I'm still uneasy driving on roads that look like wall-to-wall white carpeting. The road was like that Saturday: white from ditch to ditch. Only the tall weeds poking out of their heavy blanket gave any indication of where the edges were. That is how our lane looked when I drove home from the chicken house, white with weedy edges. I couldn't tell where the white was thick and where it was thin (I guess I need snow-vision glasses). Good thing I warned my husband not to follow my tracks home. Sure enough, I wandered off center and veered slightly into the side ditch. I was easily able to get back on track again but after I made it all the way up our long lane, I turned around and tried to make better tracks. I didn't want someone following my footsteps and being led astray.

I wish that I had 4-wheel drive faith. Then I could easily get out of situations I get myself into. No, better yet, I wish I knew exactly where the center of the road was so that I could stay there and never veer off to the right or to the left. Have you ever got stuck in the ditch and had to be towed out? It has happened to me, both physically and spiritually. (Probably mentally as well) That is a good deal more humbling than being able to drive out of a tight spot myself but maybe better in the long run. Thinking you have 4-wheel drive faith can make you reckless. Thinking that there will always be God nearby in a tow-truck to pull you out of your scrapes should make you thankful, but that can sometimes make you careless. Sort of the modern equivalent of buying indulgences. How much better to learn obedience, to be able to sense where the center of God's will is and then using all of your might (leaning on His grace) to stay there.

Psalm 119 is a good scripture to read to nudge you back on the strait path. I like verse 30: "I have chosen the way of truth..." Sounds deliberate, doesn't it? Next verse: "I have stuck unto thy testimonies..." And next, "I will run the way of thy commandments." I have chosen...I have stuck...I will run. I pray that I could have that same determination today to follow Christ, nothing wavering.

Stay out of the ditch today (if at all possible)
Lori Fiechter
January 24, 2000

#242 Sopping up the Mess

Maybe those paper beverage cups are top-heavy. Once recently at the skating rink and today at Dairy Queen, someone spilled a full cup of either soda pop or water on the table. I'm referring to other people, at other tables; I'm not talking about our sons, for once (they do enough of that at home). Both times, the guilty parties went to the counter and grabbed a whole handful of cheap, paper napkins; napkins that are barely adequate to wipe a drop of mustard off the corner of your mouth. It was pathetic, watching the perpetrators trying to soak up a whole cup of pop with those napkins. They could just have well used today's newspaper, or even the plastic bag the newspaper came in. Today, I took matters into my own hands and went to the counter myself to ask for a towel. The attendant did better than give me a towel, she came out and cleaned up the mess herself. The guys who were trying to sop up the mess themselves looked a bit sheepish.

How often do we get in messes and then are afraid to ask for help to clean up? We don't have the right tools ourselves to get the job done but we are too embarrassed or proud to admit it. I'm like that. I don't like asking for directions; I like to figure things out for myself. It is a wonder I ever found enough grace to repent and seek God's forgiveness. We try to be "good enough" for heaven, but find we are short a napkin or two to really clean up our act. If we've really made a big mess of our lives, we don't even try to clean it up; we figure that not even God can clean us up by then. That's foolishness, of course. The bigger the mess God cleans up, the greater His glory. And there is no mess too big for him. Not sticky pop or melted ice cream or gooey hot fudge or dried-on jello globs or purple grape juice or chewed up bubble gum. No mess.

Even after we are saved, we still get into messes now and then. Are we still ashamed to ask for help? Do we suffer in silence when help is available? Maybe our problem is depression or addiction (not just to drugs or alcohol or other obvious evils, but perhaps to food, shopping, sports, our jobs,

or the Internet). We have financial messes, health messes, relationship messes. We might not even see the mess; or we just move quietly to another table and hope no one will notice. God is our refuge and our strength, a very present help indeed. And He often uses others as His helping hands here on earth. If you have a hand to lend, do it. If you need such a helping hand yourself, ask. All you have to lose is a little bit of pride.

"Fear thou not; for I am with thee; be not dismayed; for I am thy God: I will strengthen thee; yea, I will help thee..." Isaiah 41:10

Lori Fiechter,