Sometimes friends comment about my candid, vulnerable approach to problem-solving.
Now let me clarify “my approach”. I didn’t write “the best approach”. Or “God’s perfect will”. Neither did I lay claim to being accomplished in courteously using all the grace tools available out there. I’m not talking about what should happen; more about what does happen.
Some of us, more than others, possess a foundational, black and white core belief. This foundational belief is all the reason not to participate. This mindset is the reason for many unsung songs. We disqualify ourselves. We feel like some time we will get it right. Until such a time, we hide in a corner. We camouflage our feelings. We pray to overcome our obvious weakness. Jesus said, “Come unto me all ye that…are heavy laden, and I will give you rest.” (Matthew 11:28) He didn’t say, “Once you smarten up and get rid of your childish feelings, you are welcome to come to me.”
Matthew 18:3 “And said, Verily I say unto you, Except ye be converted, and become as little children, ye shall not enter into the kingdom of heaven.” A child brings their trouble to their parent again and again. A child is known for vulnerability. For resilience. For candidness. They too are known to genuinely conquer one feat, and move on to the other. When we stumble or when we hurt, we do well to bring it to Jesus, just like children do.
“He binds up the wounds of the brokenhearted”– from Psalm 147:3
I know a gentleman who I am honoured to call “friend”. By now he is quite senior. A widower, a father, and a grandfather. My friend has always provided a living for those dependent on him. Never much more. I’m not sure, but to my knowledge he has never in his life owned a new automobile. He sings off-key. But he sings. One of my most precious memories of him is when he sat beside an old tractor of his, repairing it. He wasn’t really a mechanic. But his tractor needed repairs. There wasn’t enough money to replace it. Or, for that matter, take it to a “real” shop. So, we got it going again. All the while throughout that day, a phrase of a song, indicating contentment, was repeatedly being sung. A little off-key. “Time is filled with swift transition…hold to God’s unchanging hand.” Over and over. Folks, this is right around 45 years ago. That off-key song still reverberates in my mind, “Hold to God’s unchanging hand.”
Another time this same friend volunteered to make the introduction to a spiritual service. He was a large man, with a deliberate walk; gifted with profound, simple dialogue. As he walked up the aisle, we waited in anticipation. When he reached the podium, his large hands grasped each side of the lectern in a strong grip. He faced the congregation in silence. Emotion was visible on his face. Finally, he spoke, “Yuh know…we don’t deserve it! Let’s come to prayer.” The congregation joined in prayer. Profound.
“Hold to God’s unchanging hand!”
