When You take Things for Granted

All had rocked along rather smoothly over the weekend and Monday. Not until Tuesday morning was it obvious things would become amiss. It hit me when the alarm went off at 6:15 that not only did I have to wake the older boys to meet their ride for school, but I also had to fix lunches. Panicked, I ran upstairs to start everything rolling and couldn’t find either Jamie or Will. Then I ran back downstairs and they were already in the kitchen scavenging for something to eat. On the countertop rested the carnage from the night before; the remnants of the ceremonial feast which marked the end of hunting season. Everyone had fallen asleep before cleaning up. Quickly I put all the dishes in the sink for later and asked the boys what they wanted for lunch, simple. However, there was no bread in the house. Exasperated after 20 minutes, I called the person who normally takes them to school and told her I would take them; time was getting away and I had to go into town anyway. Then later, one of the boys is sick at school and called to ask about a particular medicine. I had no idea. Do I take him to the doctor, get medicine called in, or pick him up from school? Two more phone calls from other people; “No, I have to pick up at school today, we will have to do it some other time.”

Strange what we take for granted. Teri is in Florida with the three younger children and I have the two older boys. This would be easy, they are low maintenance, or so I thought. Amazing how we rarely understand what someone else creates and accomplishes to help our lives run smoothly. Often I will be reminded of the end of George Eliot’s novel, Middlemarch, where she shows the effect of Dorothea’s ordinary life: “…the effects of her being on those around her was incalculably diffusive: for the growing good of the world is partly dependent on unhistoric acts; and that things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs.” My wife being away for a few days is always a theological revelation to me. It reminds me of the sense of indebtedness we all have to those around us. This starts with seeing how much I take for granted all the things Teri does for us. Rarely do I think about it, till she is gone for a few days. The illusions of being self-made, or self-sufficient are quickly seen for what they are—illusions. None us are self-made or self-sufficient and if things do go well with us as Eliot says, it is because there are many supports and props in our lives given freely by other people, whether acknowledged or unacknowledged, but nevertheless true.

How much I must take for granted from He who created me and owns me. My outlook is proactively scheduled, meetings are called and kept, appointments are made and heeded, sermons are done early and plans for the future proceed. Control. If we have it we are self-sufficient, we control the events of life and pull the strings that make things happen, the ideal of Western man. And yet as I move from my home to the larger issues of life I have to confess with humility and repentance that if there is any control and pulling of strings it is only because of conditions I have no control over and which were prepared for me by a gracious God. We start with where we live. Is it an accident we live in a free country where we can exercise a measure of control over our lives? We could just as easily have been born in poverty or orphaned. We could have been born in Iraq and each day would not be about controlling the events of life but wondering if today was the day the bombs would start falling. Or we could look at it like this; we wake up everyday to a world prepared for us. While we took eight hours off to recharge, we usually never ponder, “He who keeps Israel neither slumbers nor sleeps.” God prepared the morning so that all the things in our appointment calendar could come to pass. It never crosses our mind to question that or even give thanks. But the fact remains that if God were to turn his back instantly on his creation we would all perish. Yet seldom do we reflect how dependent we are on God for everything. At the bottom of all our apparent success and routine efficiency is a fundamental dependency.

The key to a life of gratitude is acknowledgement of our indebtedness, both to God and others. There is a quiet humility required for this. At the center of all life is the cross where we see this certain reality about life. By losing His life, Jesus saved ours. We never get beyond that in any sphere of life or relationship. To the degree we are willing to give up rights or selfishly think of our own self-importance and with humility acknowledge our indebtedness to God and to others is the degree where we find a deep joy. We will notice the small things around us, the people who make our lives easier will not be taken for granted and we will live in wonder and amazement at the small things we so often overlook. First we will repent of how much we assume about life, then we will work the cross into everything from the person who lets you cut in front of them in traffic, to the person who opens the door for you, to all the people around you who bear ordinary burdens for you—willingly, everyday. Then deep joy follows.