This is a “tweener” post. I am still dealing with humor, but not yet ready to crack the code in regard to the surprisingly humor-filled book known as Foxe’s Book of Martyrs. Perhaps I will get to that later this week. No, I wanted to pass along this story while it is still fresh. Funny stuff happens and it sometimes gives us a glimpse into the Father’s heart. Perhaps this story will bring a smile and some encouragement to your day.
I woke up this morning in a foul mood. I am not sure why – exactly. Just one of those, “Stay out of my way…I need to go fester, fester, fester all by myself” kind of funks. I hope you can relate.
I decided to go hit the gym. Jan and I gave gym memberships to each other for Christmas. A gift of love – almost as good as the vacuum cleaner I bought Jan for Valentine’s Day when I was a poor seminary student. For some reason she enjoys telling that story to roomfuls of women. The story has made her much happier than did the vacuum cleaner.
The gym has been great for foul moods. At least being sore gives one an excuse for foulness. For the first time in my life I had 200 pounds well within my reach – especially following the holidays. The only exercise I had been getting was the primal scream therapy each morning as I passed by the mirror - thinking a dumpy, naked man had entered my bathroom. I weighed 135 when Jan and I got married. She used to refer to me as her “Skinny Little Husband.” It has been some time since she has used that endearing phrase. I have suspected a new moniker has already formed in her nimble brain, but because she is fine Christian woman, she has held back.
Anyway…I began my morning routine on a cardio machine - a treadmill. The old ones were really boring. This one is spiced up quite a bit to help pass the time while walking in place. It has a TV monitor and an iPod docking station. I usually use the iPod.
Now, to get the iPod going you have to start the work-out program. It begins at a snail’s pace while you fiddle with your settings. Here is where a crisis of pride sets in. I have owned an iPod for 2 years and have just started messing with it. I have had other people load up songs on it for me. Being a “Rev.” people would assume I would want a few gigs of worshipful music. Not so. I find a lot (not all) of Christian music predictable and sometimes boring. I would say that 2/3 of my iPod music is merrily agnostic. Anyway…the pride thing sets in by how long you sense you are allowed to fiddle with your iPod before your work-out begins. Being the paranoid type, I assume people are timing me and rolling their eyes while I take one laborious step after another and squint and poke at the little buttons and arrows.
To speed things up, I have just hit the go/all button and have been treated each and every time to the tormented life of Alanis Morissette’s first and best album, “Jagged Little Pill.” A lot of the words would make a sailor blush. For those familiar with the album, I end my cardio cool down with the song, “Ironic.” (Chorus: “It’s like rain on your wedding day. It’s a free ride when you’ve already paid. It’s the good advice that you just didn’t take. And who would have thought it? It figures.”). It is angry music - but strangely playful. It has served me well the first few weeks of working out.
This morning, there was no one around. I thought to myself, “I have time to fuss with this because the last thing I need is Morissette angst.” For once, I noticed the shuffle option. Somewhere in my deep heart of hearts I prayed, “Go God.” “Go God” is my default prayer when I don’t really feel like praying. It is similar to the wind and finger method of Bible study: “God, if you want me to hear from you – open the Bible where you want and reveal to me Your mighty wisdom.” (I was encouraged to hear that Jonathan Wesley actually did this from time to time). As I touched the shuffle mode on my iPod, I said the “Go God” thing.
Here’s what happened: God possessed my iPod and bombarded me with songs from the brethren: Dave Crowder; Steve Bell, Michael W. Smith, and Paul Baloche – each singing their joyful salutes to the Lord of hosts. But, it gets better. I hate the treadmill and am very particular about ending after 20 minutes so I can do all the fun, grunty stuff that men like to do in gyms. I hit the cool down button where you just shuffle along for about four minutes. Guess what song came on at exactly the moment I pressed the cool down button?-Ironic, by Alanis Morissette – my old “ending” tune. That’s God just showing off.
The word, ironic, is defined as: “incongruity between what might be expected and what actually occurs.” I sort of expected God to be in the same mood as me. If I woke up foul, then I was pretty sure He was in a smiting mood. (I wonder how many sermons have gone all Cotton Mather because a particular preacher had a bad week). I know that we tend to do this with people. Somehow, when we are in a ratty mood, we project the black ooze within us onto everyone else. In spite of what we have heard, misery really does NOT “love company.” Misery despises company and pushes them down the stairs.
God pulled some irony on me today. God is not unlike a parent who takes a child, who is pitching a hellish fit, and attempts to re-direct his or her angst with humor. He is, after all, a Father. And we, even the best of us, are still infants. Of the hundreds and hundreds of songs in my iPod, God sent me four as a sort of “I dare you not to smile.” – A bit of Divine incongruity between what I expected and what actually occurred. Ironic, huh?
I woke up this morning in a foul mood. I am not sure why – exactly. Just one of those, “Stay out of my way…I need to go fester, fester, fester all by myself” kind of funks. I hope you can relate.
I decided to go hit the gym. Jan and I gave gym memberships to each other for Christmas. A gift of love – almost as good as the vacuum cleaner I bought Jan for Valentine’s Day when I was a poor seminary student. For some reason she enjoys telling that story to roomfuls of women. The story has made her much happier than did the vacuum cleaner.
The gym has been great for foul moods. At least being sore gives one an excuse for foulness. For the first time in my life I had 200 pounds well within my reach – especially following the holidays. The only exercise I had been getting was the primal scream therapy each morning as I passed by the mirror - thinking a dumpy, naked man had entered my bathroom. I weighed 135 when Jan and I got married. She used to refer to me as her “Skinny Little Husband.” It has been some time since she has used that endearing phrase. I have suspected a new moniker has already formed in her nimble brain, but because she is fine Christian woman, she has held back.
Anyway…I began my morning routine on a cardio machine - a treadmill. The old ones were really boring. This one is spiced up quite a bit to help pass the time while walking in place. It has a TV monitor and an iPod docking station. I usually use the iPod.
Now, to get the iPod going you have to start the work-out program. It begins at a snail’s pace while you fiddle with your settings. Here is where a crisis of pride sets in. I have owned an iPod for 2 years and have just started messing with it. I have had other people load up songs on it for me. Being a “Rev.” people would assume I would want a few gigs of worshipful music. Not so. I find a lot (not all) of Christian music predictable and sometimes boring. I would say that 2/3 of my iPod music is merrily agnostic. Anyway…the pride thing sets in by how long you sense you are allowed to fiddle with your iPod before your work-out begins. Being the paranoid type, I assume people are timing me and rolling their eyes while I take one laborious step after another and squint and poke at the little buttons and arrows.
To speed things up, I have just hit the go/all button and have been treated each and every time to the tormented life of Alanis Morissette’s first and best album, “Jagged Little Pill.” A lot of the words would make a sailor blush. For those familiar with the album, I end my cardio cool down with the song, “Ironic.” (Chorus: “It’s like rain on your wedding day. It’s a free ride when you’ve already paid. It’s the good advice that you just didn’t take. And who would have thought it? It figures.”). It is angry music - but strangely playful. It has served me well the first few weeks of working out.
This morning, there was no one around. I thought to myself, “I have time to fuss with this because the last thing I need is Morissette angst.” For once, I noticed the shuffle option. Somewhere in my deep heart of hearts I prayed, “Go God.” “Go God” is my default prayer when I don’t really feel like praying. It is similar to the wind and finger method of Bible study: “God, if you want me to hear from you – open the Bible where you want and reveal to me Your mighty wisdom.” (I was encouraged to hear that Jonathan Wesley actually did this from time to time). As I touched the shuffle mode on my iPod, I said the “Go God” thing.
Here’s what happened: God possessed my iPod and bombarded me with songs from the brethren: Dave Crowder; Steve Bell, Michael W. Smith, and Paul Baloche – each singing their joyful salutes to the Lord of hosts. But, it gets better. I hate the treadmill and am very particular about ending after 20 minutes so I can do all the fun, grunty stuff that men like to do in gyms. I hit the cool down button where you just shuffle along for about four minutes. Guess what song came on at exactly the moment I pressed the cool down button?-Ironic, by Alanis Morissette – my old “ending” tune. That’s God just showing off.
The word, ironic, is defined as: “incongruity between what might be expected and what actually occurs.” I sort of expected God to be in the same mood as me. If I woke up foul, then I was pretty sure He was in a smiting mood. (I wonder how many sermons have gone all Cotton Mather because a particular preacher had a bad week). I know that we tend to do this with people. Somehow, when we are in a ratty mood, we project the black ooze within us onto everyone else. In spite of what we have heard, misery really does NOT “love company.” Misery despises company and pushes them down the stairs.
God pulled some irony on me today. God is not unlike a parent who takes a child, who is pitching a hellish fit, and attempts to re-direct his or her angst with humor. He is, after all, a Father. And we, even the best of us, are still infants. Of the hundreds and hundreds of songs in my iPod, God sent me four as a sort of “I dare you not to smile.” – A bit of Divine incongruity between what I expected and what actually occurred. Ironic, huh?
3 comments:
*God is good - anyone who says He doesn't care about the everyday things in our lives doesn't know my Daddy....
By the way - I love the way you write. I can't wait until you publish something for us grown-ups to dive into...*
I received an email from a friend and this sort of sums up what your saying here. Isaiah 65:24 - "It shall come to pass That before they call, I will answer; And while they are still speaking, I will hear!"
Here again: We need to stop complaining no matter what the circumstance, and remind ourselve that God knowingly is mindful of all that is going on and He is always on time and delivers big time!
I really enjoyed this post. Yeah, God does that, snaps us out of our funk and refocuses our minds on Him...kind of like a parent tickling a cranky child until he can't help but smile and giggle.
And the line "Misery despises company and pushes them down the stairs" is wonderful. I burst out laughing quite loud and annoyed some sleeping individuals around here! Hopefully they won't push me down the stairs. :-)
Sarah
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