I Can’t Do This

October 20, 2017 ~ Paul Phillips ~ 1 Comment

So, this is the bathroom I’ve been hearing about!

We’ve been remodeling the old house for months now. Soon, we’ll be living in the Lovely Lady’s childhood home. Our hard work is beginning to pay off and I think the place is looking pretty nice.

A few folks in the neighborhood have stopped by to see how the work is progressing. Everyone likes the bathroom.

Strange, isn’t it? They also like the other rooms we’ve worked on, but the bathroom is the one they exclaim about.

I like the bathroom, too. It’s turned out very nicely. All in all, a comfortable space.

I stood in the middle of that room earlier tonight as a neighbor expressed her surprise at how beautiful it is now and I had a moment. You know. One of those moments.

The kind of moment when you don’t know whether to laugh or cry. The realization hit me that we had actually finished it. There was elation in that moment.

Done! It’s done.

There was another emotion in play, as well. I am reluctant to speak of it.

Really, I am reluctant. I have sat, staring at the monitor for a long time, not sure I can write the words. But, I think it’s important, so I’ll give it a shot.

Do you know how it feels to stand, faced with a job you know—absolutely know—you are not up to, and yet recognize that you have no choice but to try?

Have you ever simply stood and looked at a task, thinking I can’t do this, for hours? Seriously. Hours.

I lay under that house one day, pipe wrench in hand, having once again failed in my task, screaming—Really. Screaming!—at the pipes above, and then at myself, and yes—at God for putting me in that situation.

Again and again, in the course of the work, I was paralyzed by failure and fear—certain I was at the end of my resources.

I was sure I could only fail. Absolutely and finally.

Two points, I want to make here. More will come to mind, but I’ll stop at two:

1) When we look only at the problem and refuse to look past it to the solution, we ensure failure. At least until we can change our focal point. There is always a solution. Always.

2) You’re never on your own in solving the problem. Whether it was guys who wanted to offer advice—marginally better, to my mind, than sitting and staring at the offensive piece while imagining complete and utter failure—or whether it was friends and family who actually could help with the physical work, there was always someone to help bear the burden.

I suppose the reader will understand if I make it clear I am not simply talking about a remodel on a house here. Sure, that has been my mountain to climb for the last few months, but it’s certainly not the only mountain there is.

Unclimbable, some of those mountains. A person might be tempted to sit and wonder how in the world God expects us to get over that gargantuan pile of rock and rubble—perhaps, never even attempting the ascent.

Some have suggested the mountain need not be attempted at all. Well? Didn’t Jesus teach His disciples they could tell the mountain to be moved from one place to another if they had faith the size of a mustard seed? (Matthew 17:20)

Leaving aside the fact I’m not sure I have that huge a faith (have you seen the size of a mustard seed???), I want to assure you we don’t get to remove the mountains God has put in front of us in that manner.

It’s a funny thing, but when God puts mountains in our way, it is to help us grow in faith. James says it’s a joy to have our faith tested, because it develops endurance. (James 1:2-4)

I’m not sure I would call it a joy. These last few months haven’t been a walk in the park.

That said, the mountain cannot—will not—be prayed away. God put it there for a reason. There is only one way to the other side. Over.

Over.

Now, when I look at the result (and, I’m still not only talking about that bathroom), there is joy in knowing what has been accomplished.

Great joy.

And shame. For my doubt. Fading, but still there.

Is the mountain in front of you bigger than you can conquer? Good! Share on X

Is the mountain in front of you bigger than you can conquer?

Good! You’ll be stronger when you get to the other side.

Stronger.

Wiser.

Ready for the next mountain still ahead. A mountain you don’t have the strength to conquer.

Yet.

We’re still traveling.

Headed home.

Every mountain top is within reach if you just keep climbing.
(from Kilimanjaro and Beyond ~ Barry Finlay ~ Canadian author)

I look up to the mountains—
does my help come from there?
My help comes from the Lord,
who made heaven and earth!

The Lord keeps you from all harm
and watches over your life.
The Lord keeps watch over you as you come and go,
both now and forever.
(Psalm 121: 1-2, 7-8 ~ NLT ~ Holy Bible, New Living Translation, copyright © 1996, 2004, 2007, 2013, 2015 by Tyndale House Foundation. Used by permission of Tyndale House Publishers Inc., Carol Stream, Illinois 60188. All rights reserved.)

Storm Line

September 22, 2015September 27, 2016 ~ Paul Phillips ~ Leave a comment

Autumn approaches like a storm line on the western horizon.

I am not happy.

The Lovely Lady and I headed for church early the other morning about sun-up. The lightly overcast sky above reflected the glow of the sun behind us as we headed west. But directly ahead, we saw the line of heavy clouds stretched from our southernmost perspective all the way to the far northern horizon.

Without the need to consult a meteorologist or even to check with the weather app on my smarter-than-me-phone, I knew instantly that we would see rain in the near future. It was inevitable. Weather fronts here usually move from the west to the east. We were east of the front.

We were going to get wet. We did.

The calendar tells me the first day of Autumn is tomorrow. Just as certainly as that rain storm blew through on Sunday, the new season is going to arrive.

You don’t have to take my word for it. His Word is clear. Unassailably so. As long as the earth remains, seedtime and harvest, and cold and heat. . .shall not end. (Genesis 8:22 ~ NASB)

I don’t love Fall. Oh, the trees are spectacular. Absolutely spectacular. The scarlet maple in the backyard will be so vivid that its brilliance will actually light the upper floor inside my house. Orange, yellow, and purple hues will all combine to provide a palette that no artist can match, try though he might.

A lady who has known me all my years on this planet suggested to me today that the coming season will be wonderful. As I always did with my siblings when we were children, I quickly tossed a pail of cold water all over the flame of my sister’s enthusiasm.

“It’s just a bunch of trees dying to get ready for winter.”

She quickly toweled herself off and alluded to the spectacular views which will be visible within weeks. Reminding me that God made the cycle of seasons, she reprimanded me for my melancholy perspective. It was almost as if we were ten and five years old, instead of nearly sixty and something over that.

And, as I always had back then, I ignored her words, continuing on with my bellyaching.

I consider myself a realist. When I read the children’s books like Winnie the Pooh and Chronicles of Narnia, I don’t understand why people always disrespect Eeyore and Puddleglum.

Eeyore, you’ll be familiar with from the Disney movies. Gloomy, introverted, cartoon donkey that he is, you may be forgiven for taking him lightly.

Puddleglum, on the other hand—Puddleglum you have to consider a realist and a solid character.

Who is Puddleglum, you ask? Mr. Lewis tells us that he is a marsh-wiggle, inhabiting the swamps and living on a diet of stewed eels.

He says thoughtful things like, “The bright side of it is that if we break our necks getting down the cliff, then we’re safe from being drowned in the river.”

What? You’re laughing, aren’t you?

While Puddleglum may also be a humorous caricature, I’m not laughing inside.

I have spent a lifetime developing character traits which are not all that unlike those of the two famous pessimists mentioned above.

New ideas are met with an instant declaration of all the reasons why they cannot be implemented.

Success of newly launched ventures elicits vague warnings of impending failure, just wait and see.

Past experience is the measure by which all changes are considered. Failures will lead to failures; successes to successes. As they always have.

You know I was sick a good part of last winter, don’t you? It is certain to be the case again this coming winter.

You understand also that I have grown to dislike even the cold temperatures of that barren season?

With passionate disdain, I do not want to move away from the warmth of the fireplace while the wind blows and the ice coats the roads. Not even to fly down the hillside on a sled or atop an inner-tube, will I leave my toasty perch.

For many years, I have been adamant in my condemnation of the intermediate season of preparation. Autumn is prelude to Winter. I will love neither.

But, as I sit and meditate on the words I have uttered again and again, to whomever will give ear, I begin to grow uncomfortable.

There is a difference between being a realist and being ungracious.

Speaking truth is important, but without proper perspective, it simply becomes selfishness. Rude thoughtlessness begets animosity.

You can only throw cold water on your sister so many times before she becomes discouraged and disheartened herself.

The approach of Autumn is inevitable. Winter will follow it. It will. Those facts cannot be changed, as long as we’re living on this spinning orb.

It is possible, however, that I will not spend weeks fighting infection in my body. Steps may be taken to avoid that. It is not certain that ice will damage the shingles near the edge of the roof over my kitchen, nor that pipes in the wall will freeze.

Those things, and things of more import, can change.

Funny. My heart can also be changed. It’s a bigger task than I can undertake. I can work on the physical inconveniences of the season to come. Our Maker is the only One who changes hearts.

The only One.

Our Maker is the only One who changes hearts. The only One. Share on X

He has done it from the beginning of time. Just as certain as His sustenance of the changing seasons and natural laws set in motion at creation is the desire on His part to change our hearts, if we will allow it. He will not force the change on us.

Winter will come. That won’t change. It doesn’t have to rule in our very being.

I’m ready for a new thing.

He does new things.

I still like Puddleglum. But he could be wrong. This time.

He’ll want to have the leg off at the knee, I shouldn’t wonder. You see if he doesn’t.

Yep. He could be wrong.

I'm ready for a new thing. He does new things. Share on X

Do not call to mind the former things,
Or ponder things of the past.
Behold, I will do something new,
Now it will spring forth;
Will you not be aware of it?
I will even make a roadway in the wilderness,
Rivers in the desert.
(Isaiah 43:18,19 ~ NASB)

“Good morning, Pooh Bear,” said Eeyore gloomily. “If it is a good morning,” he said. “Which I doubt,” said he.
(from Winnie the Pooh ~ A.A. Milne ~ English author ~ 1882-1956)

If It Was a Snake

September 11, 2015September 11, 2015 ~ Paul Phillips ~ 2 Comments

If it was a snake, it would’ve bit you.

I’m hearing the voice of the red-headed lady who raised me in my head this morning. They were words she spoke often to me as a child.

Ignoring the frighteningly bad grammar, I admit to a certain amount of myopia. By that, I mean the figurative kind of shortsightedness.

You know, the kind that only sees what it wants to see.

After midnight last night, I stood in the adhesives section at my local Wally-World, staring at row upon row of glue containers and bemoaning the lack of any alternatives.

I had started a job which absolutely had to be finished before I headed home for the night, only to find I had not tightened the lid on my bottle of contact cement. It was the only kind of glue that would work for the job at hand, so out to the local big-box discount store I went.

Twenty-four/seven. Shopping on my schedule. Never mind that many of the oddest folks do their shopping there in the wee hours of the morning.

Come to think of it, I was there. Talk about odd…

Why was I staring at the shelves instead of purchasing glue? Well, because there was no brown bottle marked contact cement to be found. Not one. The shelf sticker was there, but the metal surface above it was empty.

Empty.

I stood there for at least fifteen minutes, looking at the alternatives. No contact cement, only super glue and some weird stuff they call gorilla. None of them would perform the task I needed the glue for.

I finally asked a passing employee if there were any of the missing glue bottles in the stock room. He obligingly scanned the sticker and informed me that there were none in the store—none even, in the regional warehouse. I was out of luck.

I stood there perplexed. What would I do? How could I keep my promise to that little girl who needed her clarinet first thing this morning?

I mourned another missed deadline and the unhappy look on the girl’s face when she realized I had failed her. In my head, failure was complete. Utter.

Another few moments passed, and the employee next to me cleared his throat.

“Is that all I can help you with?” he asked.

I jerked back to the reality that he had done all he could and simply nodded. In that instant my eye caught the label on a can. Right next to the empty space I had been staring at sightlessly. Hopelessly.

Right next to it.

A large can of the exact thing I needed. Just not in the package I expected to find. It was a much better deal, as far as the price went.

I had been six inches away from the solution to my problem all that time! Sitting right there, waiting for me to notice.

Wrong package. Wrong color. Wrong size.

If it was a snake, it would’ve bit me.

I wonder. How many times have I given up because I couldn’t see the solution to my problem?

In our myopic pursuit of answers, how often have we missed the provision right in front of our faces? Our God knows exactly what we need.

Exactly. What. We. Need.

All we have to do is open our eyes. And hearts.

And get ready to get back to work.

And Moses said unto the people, Fear ye not, stand still, and see the salvation of the LORD, which he will shew to you to day.
(Exodus 14:13a ~ KJV)

If you do not raise your eyes, you will think you are the highest point.
(Antonio Porchia ~ Argentinian poet ~ 1885-1968)

He's Taken Leave

Random wanderings with Paul Phillips

discouragement

I Can’t Do This

Storm Line

If It Was a Snake