Dry Rot in the Soul…

I was hauling my boat to the lake to meet up with my family.  It was just me, pulling the boat up the interstate.  About an hour into the trip, I felt a jerk.  I look at my rear-view mirrors and saw my boat trailer leaning to the right.  Flat tire.

I should say shredded tire.  I pulled over to the emergency lane, put on my flashers, and got out to inspect the damage.  The tire had simply come apart.  I didn’t understand it.  I had checked the air pressure before I left and greased the bearings.  But these things happen.

Because of my recent knee surgery, I decided to call for assistance.  When the man said it would be an hour and half, I decided I could tough it out and change it myself.  This was not the smartest idea I had ever had.  But I got the trailer jacked up, the lug nuts loosened, and unbolted the spare.  Traffic flying by at 80 mph is motivation to work quickly and pray hard.  I had to dig out underneath the axle to fit the spare onto the hub.  Good thing I carry a shovel.

Once the tire was changed, I knew not to venture too far without a spare.  I Googled for a tire shop at the next exit (thank you, God, for smart phones), and picked up a new spare.  Back on the road.

I was about forty miles further down the road, when I felt the trailer jerk again.  I looked up and sure enough, another flat on the trailer.  On the right side again!  The spare, which had plenty of tread, had blown.  When I got the truck and trailer stopped, and ventured out to examine the tire, it was shredded, just like the first one.  Was the right side of my trailer cursed?

I Googled tire stores in the next little town, mindful it was twenty minutes till five.  I explained the situation, and the man said he could send someone right out and bring me another tire.  The service man arrived pretty quick, and he had the new spare, bought 40 miles ago, on the trailer in no time (every job is easy if you have the right tools).  Then he popped another new spare on the rim of the shredded tire. 

I knew this man knew more about tires than I did.  I asked him, “What made this tire shred like this?”  I figured whatever caused it, probably caused the last one too.  He smiled because this was not his first rodeo.  He said, “You see this a lot on boat trailers.  People don’t use their boat very much in the winter, then they take it out on a long haul.  When you don’t use it, dry rot sets in.  You probably didn’t notice the small cracks or the tread being brittle.  When a dry rot tire hits the road, it disintegrates like this, because of the pressure and the heat.  Your spare probably had dry rot too.”

His words made me wonder about dry rot of the soul.  Your soul is the sum of your life: your decisions, your thoughts, your feelings, your body, and your relationships.  I think dry rot of the soul happens when you don’t use your soul.  Being self-centered is the first sign of soul dry rot. 

I wonder how many Christians have soul dry rot.  If faith is something a person does not nurture or cultivate, but only calls on in a crisis, is that why people have a faith blow out?  Maybe their faith has not been used enough.  I do not know this for sure, but I think some people who lose their faith have let it sit, unused.  The compound that holds faith together has broken down, like a tire. 

I know going to church (or watching online these days) is not the same as having a relationship with God, but it is one small way to take your soul out for a spin.  Obeying nudges from the Holy Spirit to do acts of kindness, or to speak words of witness, or to speak for those who cannot speak can keep your faith fresh.  If you really want to keep your faith well exercised, try serving the least of these.

In these days, I’ve thought a lot about our nation.  We seem to be going through a national spasm, fed by fears of COVID, financial pressure, and an awaking to the racism that still exists in our country.  I remember 1968, which also felt like a spasm in our history.  These spasm years feel like – well, like a boat trailer jerking and swaying and telling you it is time to get into the emergency lane. 

A nation has a soul, just like a person.  Collectively we make decisions, share thoughts and feelings, and have relationships based on being Americans.  Our nation is a body that expresses its will through our government.  We don’t seem to care about truth or compassion anymore.  We assumed that our Judeo-Christian ethic could be taken for granted, that everyone would respect each other and make an effort to get along.  It’s not happening.  It takes effort to get along.  I think our national self-centeredness has caused dry rot to set in. 

Someone asked me the other day if I thought the turmoil of 2020 was a sign of the end times.  I wish I had thought to say, “I’m not sure, but it may be a sign of a dry rotted soul.”

Patience…

I am not a patient person; few people are.  On a scale of one to ten, my urgency is in the high nineties.  Being a Southerner, I know not to be rude, but I do not understand why people at the Drive-thru window take ten minutes to give their money and get their food.  Come on people, I have places to go, people to see, fish to fry. 

COVID19 has slowed me down.  I have no places to go, no people to see, no fish to fry.  Being stuck in the house all day long brings my anxiety out in full force.  When my wife asks me how my day went, I feel like a broken record: answered email, made calls, got ready for Sunday.  Setting fire to the furniture is starting to sound exciting, just to break up the day. 

Technology is not helping me be patient.  If I must wait in line or wait for my doctor, my phone beckons me to check my email, send a text, read the news, or play a game.  I thought about downloading a meditation app the other day, but I’m afraid it would take too long.  Though I don’t agree with the protesters who demand opening the economy and letting people die, I understand them.  After nine weeks of quarantine your judgment gets warped in the direction of “Let’s do something!”  When urgency and anxiety take control, wisdom is the first casualty.  One definition of patience I saw said, “Patience is what you have when there are too many witnesses.”  One dictionary says patience is “the capacity to accept or tolerate delay, trouble, or suffering without getting angry or upset.”  When I was a child and asked, “How much longer till we get there,” my mother defined patience as “Be patient or I will give you something to be patient about”  That definition made no sense to me, but I kept my mouth shut the rest of the trip. 

In the Bible, patience is waiting with hope.  When God is present in your life, he brings patience to you.  Patience flows out of your soul as resilience, peace, and steadfastness.  A good Biblical word, “long-suffering,” is a byproduct of patience.  You hope because you know you are not in charge; God is. Jesus, perfect in every way, was patient.  He is never described as being in a hurry.  Once a man begged him to come and heal his daughter.  Jesus agreed and was on the way to the man’s house.  A woman touched him and was healed.  Jesus stopped his errand and focused on this woman, pronouncing a blessing over her faith.  When word came that the daughter had died, Jesus did not say, “If only I hadn’t stopped for that other woman!”  Instead, he calmly proceeded to the home and brought the daughter back. Jesus was cool under pressure. 

Over and over God is described as patient. He was definitely “long-suffering” with the Israelites, who would give themselves completely to him one moment, then turn and worship other gods the next.  If I were God, I would have wiped them out on the second mess up and started over.  But God stuck with his people for centuries.  He tried to get their attention with prophets, with foreign conquerors.  If patience was graded on a ten-point scale, God gets a million points. 

Think how patient God is with you. You promised him over and over you would improve your life: you would start that diet, stop your temper, work on your relationships, be more generous.  Maybe you know you need to stop the pattern of self-destruction in your life.  The cycle of self-sabotage and shame needs to end.  You want to fix it all today, but your soul doesn’t seem to work that way.  But God does not let go of you.  He does not give up on you.  He hangs in there with you, patient with the messiness of your life. 

My favorite verse in the Bible is Isaiah 40:31: “Those that wait upon the Lord will renew their strength.  They will mount up with wings like eagles, they will run and not grow weary, they will walk and not faint.”  Learning to wait on God is energy renewing.  It requires surrendering your timetable, your agenda, your anxiety, your urgency to God.  To wait on God means you open yourself to receive his gift of patience. 

How do you do this?  Take a minute, just a minute.  Still your soul.  Close your eyes.  Repeat: “Not my will but yours.”  Feel your heart-rate slow.  Feel your breaths lengthen.  Say it again: “Not my will but yours.”  Hear God’s gentle whisper back: “Now you are on the right timetable. – mine.” 

An Abundance of Courage…

Talk about an impossible assignment: Joshua had been tapped to be Moses’ successor.   

Moses had an amazing backstory.  He was saved as an infant, due to the shrewd thinking of his mother and the compassion of an Egyptian Princess.  He grew up in a palace, with the most privileged members of Pharaoh’s house.  Forced to flee after he committed murder, he met a girl, got married, and wandered the back country for forty years. 

Then God spoke to him out of a bush that burned, except it didn’t burn up.  God told Moses to go back to Egypt and tell Pharaoh to let my people go. Moses went, reluctantly.  Ten plagues and several encounters with Pharaoh later, the people were set free. 

You’d think his problems were over, but they were just beginning.  The people of Israel had been slaves and didn’t know how to self-govern.  They had to learn, and Moses was their teacher.  He met with God on Mount Sinai, and spoke to God face to face, like a friend.  He gave the Israelite’s their law, the foundation of their culture.  He stuck with them through their rebellion and lead them to brink of the land God promised to give them.  Then, he went up on a mountain and died, seeing the promised land, but never entering. 

 Conquering this land would be Joshua’s job.  Joshua was born a slave.  No Egyptian Princess rescued him from the Nile.  He knew what it was like to get up every day and be treated different than other men because of his racial background.  He’d worked a slave’s job with a slave’s hours.  When Joshua first appears in the Exodus story, he is down in the valley, fighting hand to hand, while Moses is on the Mountain, holding up his arms.  Moses was doing important work, no doubt, but Joshua’s job was to be in the thick of it. 

 Joshua was on the fringes, waiting on Mount Sinai while Moses talked to God.   He would stay outside and guard the tent where Moses went to talk to God.  When a battle needed to fought, or when there was a spy assignment, the job went to Joshua.  A good man.  Someone you want by your side.  But he was not Moses. 

The problem with great leaders is they all die.  When they do, someone else has to lead.  For thirty days the people of Israel mourned Moses’ death.  Then they turn to Joshua.  He’s the new leader.  This is his time. 

There is a moment when God speaks to Joshua.  We don’t know if it was in Moses’ old “God Tent” or while he was walking around the camp one day.  We do know what God said.  He started with the facts: Moses is dead.  Seems like an obvious conclusion, but maybe it was God’s way of telling Joshua nothing would bring Moses back, and there was a new mission, a mission for which he had been chosen. 

His mission?  Cross the Jordan River into enemy territory.  Take possession of the land God promised.  Fight battles.  You will win them, but you still have to fight them, God said. Then God gives him a promise: “As I was with Moses, so I will be with you.”  God is making a simple point: When an elephant and an ant cross a bridge and it vibrates, it’s not the ant that does it.   

Then God gives Joshua some orders.   They are not “Round up the army.”  They are not “Get ready for battle.”  They are simple: “Be strong and courageous.”  God tells Joshua this three times.  Must be important. 

To “be strong” means to have strength to hold your position.  To “be courageous” means to have the will to go forward.  Three times God told Joshua the key to winning any battle:  Be strong.  Be courageous. 

We are in a battle, battling against a mutation of nature.  I hear over and over this phrase: “Out of an abundance of caution…”  I get the need for caution.  But I’m not so sure this should be our mantra.   

I believe this is a time to be strong.  Stand strong against anxiety.  Be strong enough to resist hoarding supplies.  Be strong and pray for our country, for the sick, for front-line providers.  Be strong and do not think yourself sick.  Teach your children how to be strong. 

Be courageous.  Be courageous and  help your neighbor.  Be courageous and encourage each other.  Be courageous and accept medical instruction.  Be courageous and endure, for “sorrow last through the night, but joy comes in the morning.”   This will pass.  COVID19 is not forever.  Be courageous and know that the God of Moses and Joshua is with you.   

This is a time for an abundance of courage.  This is a time to be strong and courageous.