Life in a Shoebox

I am Sarah from Genesis Chapter 18.

I am Sarah standing in her doorway laughing at God.

I am hearing His words and seeing His plan.

And I am laughing.

Genesis Chapter 18 is the account of God coming to visit Abraham and Sarah, and tell them they are finally going to have a child.  The child He had promised them before.  God comes walking into Abraham and Sarah’s day, and tells them at this very time next year, they will have a son and name him, Isaac.  Abraham is sitting outside with God in this chapter of the Bible.  Abraham has prepared a feast for God.  And Sarah…Sarah has not left the tent…she is standing in the doorway.  She is listening to the words God is pronouncing all over her life, and she is staying at a distance.  She is standing in the doorway in disbelief, and so she laughs.  You see, Sarah is in her 90’s and Abraham is 99.  They have longed for a child for countless decades.  They have sought God.  They have petitioned Him.  They have cried and begged.  And here now, 90 some odd years into their lives, they are told they will have a son.  And as Abraham goes out to meet God and sit with God, Sarah does not join him.  Sarah laughs at God’s plan, and knows only that she is old…only that she has been disappointed time and time and time again…only that it seems impossible…and this faith she is supposed to find…is nowhere to be found.  She is a woman frozen in a doorway.  She cannot turn away from the words of God, but she cannot go out and sit and believe them either.  There in the doorway she can try to avoid God’s plan.

 

It is too much.

It is too hard.

There are too many bridges and way too much water.

She must see God from the doorway.

Where it is safe.

When I was about 3 or 4 years old, I wanted a Snoopy Sno-Cone Machine.  If you are not a product of the late ‘70’s early ‘80’s you may not remember this fantastic toy.  Let me describe its awesomeness.  It was a sno-cone machine that used the ice cubes out of an ice cube tray (yep, before ice makers).  And you pushed them through this hole in the top of a plastic replica of Snoopy’s dog house.  Then you cranked a handle in the back as you placed a Snoopy wearing a red snow toboggan over the opening. And the ice cube would grind up and come out like sno-cone ice, and you would fill the equivalent of a Dixie cup with some ice slush and flavoring.  It was brilliant.  I wanted one so badly.  So badly in fact, I cut out a picture from a magazine, and put it in a shoebox.  And carried it around with me everywhere.  I showed it to my mom and dad a lot.  I wanted one for my birthday.  I can vaguely remember opening the lid to the shoebox to sneak a peek at the Snoopy Sno-Cone Machine.  I can remember wanting to make sno-cones for everyone…my sister, my mom, my dad, my neighbors…everyone.  It was all I thought about and hoped for.  Just the thought of it made me smile.

                                                            It was making sno-cones with Snoopy for Pete’s Sake.

It was too good to be true.

It was a picture placed inside a shoebox because the hope was so big.

 

And now I am here, and I am 38 years old, and there still are those things…the ones that matter so much…the ones that if you allow yourself to think on them, even for a minute, you are off and daydreaming.  And you are happy in those day dreams.  Those things are not Snoopy Sno-Cone Machines anymore.  But they are still the things that I keep safe in the shoebox of my soul, or the doorway of my conversations with Jesus.  These are the things I almost can’t bear to pray about…because if I ask and Jesus says, “No.” or “Not now.” or “You’re not ready.” or “My plan is better.”  Well, I don’t think I can stomach those things.  And I stand at a distance, with the lid closed tightly on these little shoeboxes and, don’t even keep my fingers crossed anymore…these are the things you can’t even talk about.  They are the wants that can make you cry and threaten daily to make you bitter.  They are not bad wants either.  They are not greed or lust or jealousy.  They are the wants that are almost needs because they seem to be so directly related to the plan you hope God has for your life.

Maybe that is my problem.

Maybe I am holding on to a plan I hope God has for my life.

Maybe I have made up a make believe plan filled with sno-cones and doorways.

And God is sitting outside.

Trying to tell me what amazing things He is going to do.

Honestly, I really just want God’s plan for my life to be painless.  I don’t want to be stretched.  I don’t want to grow. I don’t want to wait.  And I certainly don’t want to wait decades.  I don’t want to be clay and molded, or refined by fire.  I don’t want those things.  Those things have happened to me, and yes, it was really really beneficial, but there are those few hopes and dreams left that I just want them to turn out the way I want them to turn out, ya know?  And when God’s plan has me way away from my own plan, I get out my shoebox and stand in my doorway and laugh a little…in a bad way…at all the things Jesus thinks He is going to do with me…because man oh man, if He had only stuck to my plan first.  If He had only seen the plans I had for me.  And I get scared that Jesus is going to ruin all my plans.  And I get scared that I am going to live a life of disappointment, and tears and hurts so deep…because sometimes following Jesus is sooooooo just not about me at all… And me?  Well, I am still that 3 year old little girl banking on a Snoopy Sno-Cone machine who just might throw a fit if it is not in the box I am opening at my birthday party.  If I am not getting what I want when I want it…well, it’s my party and I think you know how the rest of the song goes.

And it really isn’t a fit I would throw.  Just so much disappointment.  So much wishing.  And why can’t I be the really good girl who just wishes all the time to do the will of God?  Why do I have to be the girl with the secret shoebox filled with pictures of things that she needs to turn out just right.  And I haven’t even told God or asked God what He wants to do with my precious things because I am so dang scared to even mention them to Him.  It is ridiculous.  And I really do know it.  It is ridiculous to try to hide it all from my Savior sitting outside, hoping I will join Him to hear all the good news He has for me.  And I am sitting with my shoebox in my doorway waiting for the bottom to fall out.

I need to know the bottom won’t fall out.

I need to know that one thing more than you can possibly imagine.

I need to know my Jesus isn’t laughing at me.

My life cannot be the punch line of a really bad joke.

 

And for some reason I know it’s time to open the shoebox.  I know it’s time to take all the last little precious pieces of my plan out of the box and hand them over to Jesus.  And I know I am doing it today because today, like always, Jesus is sitting waiting for me to join Him. And this doorway I’ve been standing in has really just kept me far enough away from my Jesus where I’m pretty sure I’m missing out on the good stuff.  And I am pulling out the pictures I have created of my writing career…the one where the road is easy and every publisher loves my work.  And I am pulling out the pictures I have created of my children’s lives…the ones where they all make something wonderful of their time here on earth, and we all get along and have barbeques for every holiday.  And I am pulling out the pictures I have created of my sister’s life…the ones where she is happy and everything ends up ok and I am smiling and in her wedding.  And I am pulling out the pictures of my marriage…the ones where we stay together forever, and the hardest years are behind us and we never struggle with finances again and our love for each other only grows stronger, never stagnant, never stale.  And I am pulling out the pictures of me…all these pictures of me and how I need it to all work out.  Because y’all, sometimes I feel like I need to know it just all works out with a happy ending, and everyone on the same side, and the good guys winning, and the road less travelled was the road that once you picked it, you were handed a pat on the back and God opened your shoebox and said, “Hooray!” a bunch to let you know that everything turned out ok.

Because there are things I care so much about that I can’t bear to see them ruined.

Oh y’all, I am a mess over this.

But the fact of the matter was God was sitting outside.

And Sarah missed out on sitting with the God of the Universe.

And so am I.

So, come with me.  Out of your doorway.   I’m stepping out of mine too.  I’m a little embarrassed I’ve been standing in mine for so long.   Come open your shoeboxes too.  It’s outside with my plans tossed to the wind that I have found my greatest moments with Jesus.  And I know this.  I just need to know it again.  I got the sno-cone machine that birthday.  And playing with it, making the sno-cones was so much messier than I ever imagined.   But it was really good.  And Sarah, she had Isaac when she was in her 90’s…which is way older than she had ever planned.  But it was really good.  And Jesus, He is really just waiting for us to get on board, and trust that He is good and He loves us way more than we could ever imagine.  And let Him open our shoeboxes, because shoeboxes are no place for dreams to come alive.  And doorways are no place to live for Jesus.

 

Shalom Y’all.