One of my favorite stories from childhood was about
Goldilocks and the three bears. You remember… the one where the little blonde
girl happens upon a house in the woods and ends up sitting in someone else’s
chair, sampling someone else’s soup, and sleeping in someone else’s bed. If memory serves (and lately, I confess, it
seems a tad overworked), the catch phrase in each of those situations was
something like “this one is JUST RIGHT.” There was always something very
satisfying about that statement, since to me it validated that little people,
like big people, are individuals with different needs and different
tastes. Never mind that blondie was
breaking and entering. I identified with
her curiosity, and, as a high J on the Meyers-Briggs personality inventory, I
understood her need for closure before
moving on to the next task.
As a child I was labeled a worrier, particularly by my
mom. She often commented in my grade
school years that I would have an ulcer at 15.
What did I have to worry about?
Well, for one thing, I was going to be getting this ulcer in a few years
according to my mother. And then there
were the monthly checkups to see if I had bitten my finger nails. If I was guilty (and, obviously, there was no
hiding the evidence), I promptly received a spanking. (Not sure which was the cause and which was
the effect in that case!)
But part of my anxiety was the result of being blessed with
a creative imagination. Upon viewing
virtually any situation, I could easily project myself into those
circumstances—good or bad. This was a
plus if I imagined myself a lifeguard saving a drowning victim or a firemen
rescuing a cat from a burning building.
But on the flip side, it caused great dread or fear if I witnessed sad,
tragic or frightful things, either in real life or just watching TV. Once, I got physically sick following a trip
to the junk yard, where my father took me to view the wrecked remains of a car
driven by a member of our church. Just
seeing the steering wheel imbedded in the driver’s seat traumatized me, so
vivid was my imagination.
And then there was the time, while in the back seat of my
parents’ car, we happened past the local hospital, and I saw a poor man who had
no arms or legs sitting upright in a wheelchair. At first horrified, my shock quickly moved to
fear that someday I would be so handicapped…then to worry that I would be
utterly helpless and totally dependent on others…and finally to despair that I
would not be able to handle it and probably die. The mental and emotional progression which
seems almost humorous to me now was very real then, and I will never forget the
comfort my mom brought me at that moment.
She quietly reminded me that the man I saw in the wheel chair had just the grace he needed for that situation.
The reason I couldn’t imagine handling the challenges he faced was
because God wasn’t asking me to. And, I
concluded that day, that whatever God allowed into my life would be accompanied
by a custom-made grace that fit my particular circumstances “just right.”
One of Webster’s
definitions of grace is simply “help given man by God.” Since I have concluded, like Goldilocks, that
I am unique and that my life circumstances are similar to and yet unlike anyone else’s at any given moment, a “one size fits
all” grace simply will not do. Rather,
my loving Father tailor-makes the particular faith, comfort, spiritual
resources and supportive relationships I need to endure with joy whatever comes my way.
Perhaps you have found yourself looking at someone in grief
or misery and saying to yourself, “I could never handle that,” “I would never
survive that much pain,” or worse yet, “I would lose my faith.” In the Old Testament, Job’s wife took an
inventory of his list of tragedies and concluded “curse God and die.” In the HISTORY’S WORST ADVICE category, we
have a winner! I believe that reaction
might come from an assumption that God is not very discriminating or particular
in the type of care we need for life’s challenges. We might see this type of divine oversight as
little more than fatalism, a kind of que
sera, sera existence. Whatever will
be, will be. After all, isn’t this life
just a ‘vale of tears’? Well, yes and
no. In John’s gospel, Jesus promised us: “In this world you will have suffering,” and “I will not leave you comfortless. I will come to you.”
Think about it: would any thinking, feeling person ever
offer the same counsel and comfort to a person who had just become paralyzed as
one would to a child who had just lost a fish?
Both involve sensitivity, wisdom, and a grace that “just fits.” So it is
with our heavenly Father, who offers us precisely what we need when we need
it to handle everything that life throws at us.
The grace He offers that covers all our sins is universally applied. But
the grace available to support and tend to us in our daily struggles is always
a custom-fit.
So until God redeems
the life experiences which we wish had
never happened, we have two choices:
·
Push Him away, clench our fists, and feel sorry
for ourselves—in a sense, curse God and die OR
·
Draw near to Him, open our hands, and receive
His amazing, personalized grace for every situation.
Take a moment right now, in whatever circumstances you find
yourself, and receive God’s custom-fitted grace! Coming from Him, I guarantee you it will be
‘just right.’
tad
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