Sunshine gets to be the hero almost always, doesn’t it? I feel pretty much solar-powered. Bright sun and blue skies fuel my best days. That same sun is now the enemy… at least if I want to leave home between 7:15 and 7:30 am.
Misfiring mechanical devices always mess with my mood. First-world problems, right? Somehow, our garage door managed to develop a difficult personality. Recently, it acted up so severely that Hubby Guy got out of the car and manually closed it so we could go to work.
Now the sensor balks at the early morning sun. If we leave between 7:15 and 7:30 am on a sunny day, either a person or the vehicle must maneuver to cast a shadow on the sensor so the door will close.
My thoughts keep returning to the shade required by the garage door sensor… how the direct sunlight confuses it. I am reminded of so many times in life when I was blinded by good things. Specific memories come to mind when I did not act right in the presence of an abundance of good.
Sometimes we need a break, even from the best things. One night, a few years ago, two friends and I hung out chatting. A giant bowl of M&Ms sat equidistant from each of us. They ended up cutting me off. Between the rich quality friend time and the sweet indulgence of chocolate, I became overbearingly hyper. My friends took matters into their own hands and removed all access to further chocolate.
In my mid-twenties, I was unhappy and could not figure out why. I had a good job, a great friend group, a leadership role with the youth at church, etc. I took a two-week vacation on the other side of the nation. The break provided some great perspective. Turns out, I needed a little shade to get my bearings.
You’ve heard the saying “You can’t see the forest for the trees”. I couldn’t see the truth for all the wonderful things I was involved in. Ultimately, in my two-week rest vacation, I made some life-changing decisions. So many good things occupied my time that some misfiring went unnoticed. The first thing I did when I returned home was resign from my job. Before the trip, I did not recognize the level of misery I felt at work.
How do we miss misery? It’s miserable! Or is it? Perhaps it wears disguises? Yes, sometimes in my life it shows up dressed as responsibility, loyalty, or dedication. The “way things are” bosses me around. It tells me that the status quo is the way to go. Meanwhile, “a better way” patiently taps its foot and waits for my gullible self to realize how blinded I have become.
We are wary of bad things, but what about the perfectly good things that trip us up? I believe those things are why we cannot afford to become complacent. Good things are sneakier than bad things. We go willingly where they try to take us. If we aren’t careful, good things will lead us astray just as easily as bad things. That happens when we refuse to power down.
The beginning of Psalm 23 provides a wonderful reminder for us. In verse 2, David reminds us the Lord prescribes rest. He cares about our details. He will restore us, but not mid-air. We need to land the plane, set down the schedule, and take a load off.
Psalm 23:1-3 (KJV) The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want. 2 He maketh me to lie down in green pastures: he leadeth me beside the still waters. 3 He restoreth my soul: he leadeth me in the paths of righteousness for his name’s sake.
Jesus owns the “better way”. I do not actually believe He taps his foot. I do think He waits, though. He patiently waits for us to roll to a stop in the shade so He can show us the map. He carries the map that leads to the real good things.
When did you last hang out in the shade? When did you last power down? I ask myself these questions too. I do not want to get blinded by good things that are not the right things. I want to follow the map that leads to the better way.