Perspective

The church I attend just finished a series on the life of Joseph, one of the Old Testament characters who was sold into slavery by his brothers, bought by an Egyptian captain, sent to jail because the captain's wife lied about an attempted rape, and finally, over 17 years after being sold by his brothers, elevated to being second on command of all of Egypt.  One thing that has stayed with me about the series was the idea that periods of his story don't make sense when viewed from the perspective of Joseph.  For his faithfulness, he was sent to prison.  Favorite son, sold into slavery for 17 years.  Locked in prison for years because of a lie told by a spurned woman.  Large parts of his life are a mess and going through them I think would have been not only extremely difficult, but very easy to lose faith.  How is one to hold on to hope in the midst of such circumstances?  I think one way is by realizing that my story is only a small part of the larger story that is about God.  Just as picking a random page in a book would very likely be confusing to read because it is out of context, so viewing my life without any eternal, bigger picture, could easily cause me to get lost in my problems and struggles.  A puzzle piece is meaningless without the puzzle, a chapter lacks the context of the book that contains it, organs function as part of the whole body, and my story is only a tiny part of the grand story of God.

Saw Blades and Cigarette Butts

I was walking my puppy this afternoon and as we were walking down the sidewalk, she came across a broken saw blade, which she promptly tried to pick up. I reached down and blocked her from picking it up with her mouth and we continued the walk, with her for a few seconds straining at the leash trying to still get to it. We continued on and a few minutes later she found a cigarette butt in the grass that she started chewing on and I removed it from her mouth and threw it away. She did not seem too happy about that being taken away either. I know my intentions towards her and my care for her motivates me to take things away from her that I know will hurt her. I do this, not because I am some mean spoil-sport that delights in ruining her fun, but because I love her and can see the danger in some things that she does not understand. While a saw blade to a two month old puppy looks like something fun to chew on, it would quickly land her at the vet with stitches and several weeks of pain. A cigarette butt isn't exactly something I want her to eat because the chemicals would not be good for her stomach.

As I was thinking about my reasons for taking these things away and trying unsuccessfully to explain to her what I was doing (she's a terrible listener), I was struck at how this is how I relate to God. What are my saw blades and cigarette butts that I whine and complain when He takes them away from me? Does He, the perfect Father, not do so out of love and infinite knowledge for my good? Why do I kick and scream, or pout because He took away something that I thought would bring me joy? What I want is for my dog to trust in my love for her and that my goodness towards her will bring her greater happiness than she on her own could possibly experience. Is this not what God wants for me? Should I not be willing to surrender my saw blades and cigarette butts to Him, knowing that a greater fun awaits, and even if not immediately, that what He is taking away is for my good?

What are your saw blades and cigarette butts that you find so difficult to surrender to Him?