What's the Worst that Could Happen?

Irrational fears... I think we all have them to some degree. Some of us wouldn't like to admit it, but there is a part of us that worries about something we can't possibly control. Usually, it's something VERY unlikely to ever occur, but the truth of that rarely encounters the illogical worry on the other side of the door... the one between feeling and knowing.

Some of us call them "phobias"... which is just a derivative of the Greek word for fear. I was googling phobias the other day. I was astounded at the wide variety of phobias. I have two in particular myself. The first one is called "globophobia" - fear of balloons. My friends LOVE to tease me about this one, but I blacked out at prom during the balloon drop. The fact is that my fear may be more along the lines of "ligyrophobia" or fear of loud noises. I'm not so much afraid of balloons as of the fact that when they are present people seem to love to pop them. Why? I don't know what's wrong with you people. Along with the ligyrophobia is also the fear of fireworks, gunshots, ziploc bags filled with air, those little air sacks that they use for shipping these days, and McDonald's birthday parties. Now, this seems a pretty avoidable fear, but you'd be amazed how much you'd start to notice all the places you are with your kids that people want to give them a balloon. I would seem awful if I just said, "No thanks. We're not balloon people," and walked away. I mean, who's not balloon people? What kind of hideous creature would withhold a fun, colorful piece of helium-inflated latex joy from their child? I don't even enter the Publisher's Clearinghouse Sweepstakes for fear they might show up on my doorstep with balloons (never mind the enormous billion dollar check). I'd probably just black out or throw up on the person who took Ed McMahon's job, and they'd move on to the next house on the list.

My other phobia would be that of using an outhouse/pit toilet. I will not use one. Give me a patch of weeds and a somewhat questionable leaf over an outhouse any day. I wasn't able to find a phobia word for this one. Fear of toilets in general, however, is a phobia, and, believe me, I feel sorry for that guy.

I'll name some of my other "issues" - what I would classify more as worries than phobias. Most of these are ridiculous, but they've crossed my mind at least once - some of them daily. So I take these fears, and then answer them to their logical conclusions, as follows:

1) What if I had been born 100 years or more earlier than I was? What would I have done about the lack of indoor plumbing?

2) What if I had been born when there were no options for orthodontics or facial hair removal?

3) What if nobody takes pity on me when I get old and keeps up with my facial hair removal?

4) What if my words are forever etched on the internet? Will my grandchildren read them? My great grandchildren? I'm not sure I want that kind of pressure. I want them to remember me in some fanciful cloud of imagination... not as I really am.

5) What if I'm like some people and never get famous but then somehow do after I'm dead and the only pictures they find for my biography are bad hair days? Or what if they put a musical montage of my life in pictures together for my funeral and someone like Arthur Hannes narrates?

6) What if I'm not remembered at all?

7) What if salon shampoo is no better than store shampoo - only more expensive?

8) What if organic food is just a government conspiracy to get rid of the smaller, less appetizing produce at higher prices?

9) What if the UPS man knows me better than most other people do, and I don't know him at all?

10) What if archival quality photo paper really isn't? Will all my photos fade and be forgotten?

11) What if too much hair goes down my drain and clogs it?

12) What if Liquid Plumber is bad for the water table?

13) When the word "googling" (above) was not underlined by spell checker, I immediately thought, "That's an actual word now? This world is changing so rapidly. I'm old now. What if I can't keep up?"

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1) I would never have known the joys of indoor plumbing, and my parents might have always wondered with the grass behind the outhouse would never grow.

2) I would have been virtually unmarketable and would have had to join the circus sideshow.

3) I guess the kids will remember me as Grandpa Slagter or that scary old bearded lady who wanted a hug every Sunday during visiting hours.

4) Hopefully their reality check about me will be less disappointing than I anticipate. Chances are I'll be crazy old grandma anyway, and maybe viewing some former moments of semi-lucid writing will be a comfort to them. (Oh, and I'll be dead, and it won't matter.)

5) I'll be dead, and it won't matter.

6) I'll be dead, and it won't matter.

7) Then I'm wasting money on a label. People have done that for centuries for much more stupid things than shampoo.

8) Then I helped get rid of unwanted produce and feed farmers.

9) It's his job. He doesn't mind.

10) Maybe, but I'll probably be dead, and it won't matter.

11) Hello, Liquid Plumber.

12) Hello, actual plumber.

13) Then I'll fall behind and become an "eccentric"... which will make the frizzy hair and beard more socially acceptable.

My mom used to have a saying. I remember this saying, because I use it on my own children on a regular basis. Now, I know my mom didn't event this saying, because it's very common. However, when mom said it, it had a way of making the worst fears seem a little more ridiculous. She said, "What's the worst thing that could possibly happen?" She didn't just say it. She made us play it. She made us actually tell her the thought that had originated the fear and what the future would hold if such a thing should actually occur. It had a way of making the fear melt away almost every time.

I find this interesting, because as I have noticed in some of my older friends and relatives... the little molehills that they didn't deal with as younger people have become mountains as they grew into older people. The little worries and fears that they didn't hand over to a God big enough to handle them turned them into - in some cases - downright fear-ridden, worry-filled, controlling individuals. In most cases, that is very ugly. This concept is not just relegated to the world of fear either - anger, gossip, greed, paranoia, anxiety, and lust (amongst other things) like noses and wrinkles, get bigger as we get older. They make us into people who are sometimes downright difficult to be near. I think if more people would think on that question, "What's the worst thing that could happen?" they would, like I often do, find out that what they fear is actually not quite as horrifying as they originally imagined.

This makes me want to deal with my molehills before they become mountains. I know nowhere else to go but to the One who wants to bear my burdens... the One who bore my biggest burden to Calvary.

I was reading tonight, Psalm 34:2-4 My soul makes its boast in the Lord; let the humble hear and be glad. Oh, magnify the Lord with me, and let us exalt His name together! I sought the Lord, and He answered me and delivered me from all my fears.

I think these verses are worth another think or maybe two. For one thing, it's the humble who can hear the Lord. When I think I'm pretty great or pretty capable or pretty pretty, I negate my ability to hear what He has for me. When I magnify (or see in a larger scale) the Lord and put Him in His rightful place in my life, I (along with my issues) get smaller. When I seek to know Him better, He is more than ready to answer me and deliver me from all my fears. He sees every fear, and He knows the thinking that got me there. Ever wonder where all that ick comes from? Thought -->Feeling-->Action-->Result. And the cycle continues. Your feeling originated from a thought - usually an erroneous one if you're like me. Even if your thinking is just a tiny bit "off" - the rest spins out of control. Claiming truth over the thought restarts the cycle in the right direction.

Now, there are dozens and dozens of other verses that deal with fear and casting our cares where they belong. I am going to park it right here for now. Because I need to think on it. What's the worst thing that could happen?

Safety in a Helmet

Helmets - depending on their design, they can look really cool

OR really NOT cool.

I remember when this photo was taken. I was visiting my sister Erin and her husband Pete in California. They like to GO, and so do I. So when they offered to take me horseback riding on the beach I was picturing something a bit more exotic than what you see at the right. I remember that as we were waiting in line to sign a helmet waiver Pete said in his most authoritative military voice that we were all going to wear helmets. Exqueeze me? Helmets? I tend to take the path of least resistance, and when talking with a Madson, you don't win, you acquiesce. So as I went to check out the helmet selection I realized that this was not going to be the kind of ride I had been expecting.

The owners of the establishment selected for each of us a horse based on our size and temperament in relation to the size and temperament of each beast, and if you look closely, you might notice that my horse, the famed mustang of old (and the only mustang they had), looks nothing like the wild and free horse of the Old West. A more depressed equine specimen I can scarcely imagine. He looks, in a word, "demoralized". He could not be less impressed with me, the beach, the scenery (which much of the time was the east end of the westbound horse in front of him), or the trail on which we were walking. For me, it was supposed to be fabulous. For him, I was just a bag of oats and a cold drink - maybe a sugar cube if he didn't misbehave.

I remember sitting on Prickly Pete (or whatever his name was) and waiting for the trail ride to start when a woman (also in a helmet) rode up next to me (mostly by accident or the fact that her horse took her where he wanted to go - just like mine). She looked at me, and said, "It's our anniversary. When my husband said he was taking me horseback riding on the beach, I had pictured galloping through the surf with the wind in my hair. Now I'm wearing this stupid helmet." I had found a kindred spirit. As we traded jokes about our safety-concious men (her husband and my brother-in-law), our spirits lightened considerably; although we could not say the same for Prickly Pete and Wild Bill (or whatever her horse's name was).

Fast forward a few years, and we land in a pediatrician's office with my first son ever - who was 9 when I married Mark and 10 the first time I took him to the pediatrician. We were sitting there as the doctor was rattling off her list of questions (most of which were none of her business anyway), and I kept my fingers crossed that he was giving the answers she wanted to hear. She got to, "Do you wear a helmet/kneepads and other safety gear when riding bikes or skateboards?" Austin didn't skip a beat as he replied, "No way! Dad says helmets are for sissies." As both of our mouths caught flies for a few seconds, she glanced sidelong at me with an "Mmm... hmm..." and a "Does he now?" Well, the cat was out of the bag. We had quite a little laugh about that when I told Mark what Austin had blurted out that day. We laughed about it for weeks as I liked to say to Mark, "Well, someday when you're eating your meals out of a straw at 'the home', we'll see if you can still say (garbled and slurred), 'hfelmeth are fer thithies.'"

I look back on these incidences and laugh, because it's amazing how much your perspective on your needs for safety and security can change over just a relatively short period of time. We have an ATV now, and I feel like we should always wear a helmet, even when we aren't going far or fast. After all, helmets protect the most important part of your body. Without your head intact, nothing else would work right (or maybe work at all). Your head tells the rest of your body what to do and where to go.

Ephesians 6:16-18 speaks of the Armor of God and that the Helmet of Salvation is an integral part of our armor and that salvation is the source of our security. It keeps our head intact. Our head, after all, is the control center of our body. If it is secured, the rest of our actions (what we do and where we go) will fall into better and safer places. Our security, in other words, depends on our view of and attitude toward our Maker and His offer of eternal security. (1 Thessalonians 5:7-9)

The same son who told the doctor almost 4 years ago that, "Dad says that helmets are for sissies," was watching me search for helmet pictures for this blog - not knowing what I was doing. He said to me, "Don't you think that Roman helmet is cool?!" Isaiah 59:17 says of God Himself, "He put on righteousness as his breastplate, and the helmet of salvation on his head; he put on the garments of vengeance and wrapped himself in zeal as in a cloak." I don't know about you, but that gives me goosebumps. Doesn't sound like a sissy to me. So I guess not ALL helmets are for sissies. :) It just depends on the reputation of the one wearing it. I think I'm in pretty good company. Sign me up for a helmet.

Embracing Humanity?

I was in Sunday School class this morning, and the topic, as we began the study of a new book of the Bible, was the origination of that particular book of Scripture. The book is one of the gospels, and as the discussion went on, the two most educated men in the room were discussing the "inerrancy of Scripture", particularly as it pertained to the gospels. You see, it is my understanding that the gospels were being written a couple of decades following the original events of Jesus' life and death. The gospels themselves explain mostly the same thing and, it was agreed, are extremely reliable and accurate due to the fact that they have been copied and recopied yet remain remarkably similar in content and specifics. The bottom line of the story is that some of the gospels report very similar events but may disagree as to a word or two in a specific line of Jesus' words or to the location, timing, or details of a certain sermon or miracle performed by Him. They generally, largely agree, and I believe that the general consensus among those in the class was that the words were inerrant as they left the pen to the page, but that they may have encountered a slight bit of human reinterpretation along the way. Not to mention that, as it was said in class, if 4 people watched the same accident from a different corner of an intersection they would each have a different story and a different way of telling it.

This line of thinking used to bother me... almost making me feel threatened somehow that the God of the Universe left His only Word to me in some type of error-ridden state that makes it unreliable to this day. However, I know this to be untrue, because it is "living and active" and "God breathed" (2 Tim. 3:16 & Hebrews 4:12) and it speaks to me in beautiful clarity every single day in a way that is completely undeniable. All these things would probably not convince someone who doesn't believe or someone from another religion or someone highly "educated", but it satisfies plain ol' me just fine.

Something that was profoundly freeing "hit" me during the discussion. God has never balked at embracing human frailty. In fact, it's somewhat His signature. He created us for relationship with Him and also knowing we would break that relationship through our sin and denial of Him. He wrestled with Jacob (Genesis 32:23-34). He met personally and intimately with patriarchs from Moses to Abraham - providing for their human frailty ever-so-tenderly (Exodus 33:12-22). He established, right from the beginning of His Word to us - that our frailties were no problem for Him. But they are certainly a problem for us - and for one another. Most of us can pick out an imperfection or something we don't particularly like about another person a mile away. We all of a sudden think ourselves a worthy judge of what is good or bad about another person. Thankfully, our Creator thought us worth close association from the very beginning despite knowing everything about us.

God sent His Son - Jesus. Jesus was fully God and fully man. This is another demonstration that He doesn't mind getting His "hands dirty" with humanity. He took on flesh... our illnesses, frailties, difficulties, dirt... He didn't send us a redeemer that was all God and no man. He gave us the opportunity to participate in the process. He included us. We were an integral part, and He didn't say in a sense, "stand back and let me handle this". He got as intimate as He could with a person. He chose to grow inside of her and be parented by her. Could He have redeemed us without our participation? Sure.

The point I'm trying to make I guess is that the Bible is much the same way. He used men - humanity in all their imperfection - to chronicle His life on earth in the gospels and His heart toward and instructions for us in the epistles. I think it's part of His way of relating with us... involving us. The Bible is not just a story about Him. It's a story about how deeply He desires a close relationship with us. He could have written the Bible with His own hand - thus removing the human element. He did so with the Ten Commandments (Exodus 31:18). He could have made it so that the 4 gospels read identically, but He didn't. Each author's unique writing style and personality shows through and invites mortals to recognize that relationship with God is not unattainable... as the gospel writers had already discovered.

God has reached out to us over and over throughout history - from creation to the present. He wants us to reach back. Why? I have no idea. Why would perfection want to commune with imperfection? Why would God want to relate with man? I mean, we can hardly stand to live with one another sometimes. I joked once to a person who felt ostracized by "churchy people", "I have a talent for making the most loving people at church hate me." I think a lot of us feel that way. I'm sure we all know certain people though - the ones who can't stand our lack of being, well, frankly - more like them. A "The whole world would be better if we were all a lot more like me," philosophy. I think if we were all honest, we would admit having taken that philosophy around the block in our minds once or twice - tried it on for size. We claim we love and accept, and we spread that by trying to browbeat or guilt or reason others into our way of thinking - which is also inevitably just as flawed in a different way. In reality, the most loving thing we could probably do for a person we disagree with is what God does - embrace their humanity, love them "as is", and wait to let Him change their heart if He would. Isaiah 58:8-9 says, "'For my thoughts are not your thoughts,neither are your ways my ways,' declares the LORD. 'As the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways and my thoughts than your thoughts.'" So basically, giving the world my philosophies on life (which are mostly flawed and rubbish) are not nearly as important as giving them to God. And with that... I'm done.