I'm glad there's SOMEONE in charge...

...who knows the end from the beginning.

I'm reading a book called "The Last Ghost Dancer" by Tony Bender. I'm not far into it but so far there are some really good excerpts that speak ironic truth. It makes me smile, but in a cocked eyebrow sort of way.

"From above, this big beautiful blue machine appears to float and revolve in blackness and silence, 

but down here, gears clatter and click seemingly in need of grease, and another irritating red stoplight is one car's savior while the station wagon that made the light is obliterated two blocks down the road by a speeding Peterbilt. Meanwhile, oblivious to the divine providence that has saved them, the ones at the red light curse their perceived misfortune.

"So some live, propagate, the family name marches on, and up ahead amidst the smoke, the broken glass, the weeping, the regrets, and flashing red lights, generations vanish unborn.

" I marvel at the way things string together, the way everyday moments bring us crashing together or veering apart. And all the while we are in the passenger seat we believe we are driving."

 I've been thinking about this concept for several weeks now, our limited perspective and seemingly constant frustration at the unplanned interruptions in our lives.

Recently when we were on our way down to Utah County and saw an amazingly destructive accident the thought popped into my head, "Whoa! That looks awful!" I winced at my painful gut clenching reaction. "I feel so bad for whoever was in that accident. I'm sure it wasn't on their list of  'Things to Do' today.""

Where were they going? Was it a routine errand? Was it a birthday party? Baptism? Holiday gathering? In any case this is where they are now. All plans have been completely altered: their plans, the plans of those who love and care for them. Instead of what they were all going to do in the days, weeks, months ahead they'll be...what? Laying in the hospital in a coma? Looking forward to hard work and pain in physical therapy? Making hospital visits? Funeral Home arrangements?

The saying "Life is what happens when you're busy making other plans" is indeed true. I'm not absolutely sure but I'm fairly confident that we wouldn't, on our own, put "Get cancer this year and spend days, weeks, months and possibly years seeing a doctor and going through all kinds of unpleasant treatments and possibly die at the end of it" on our list of things to do. Or "Get pregnant then miscarry at 20 weeks". Or "Have a heart attack on Thanksgiving weekend". We just wouldn't do things like that. The most unpleasant things we'd put on our list voluntarily, without circumstances forcing us too, are: Clean the toilet, muck out the horse stalls, get a colonoscopy (ick)...stuff like that.

I suppose it's a good thing that someone else is in charge who plans for us to deal with really difficult things otherwise we'd be pretty shallow creatures with very clean bathrooms. We may know on some intellectual level that it's important to BE a certain way in difficult circumstances but we wouldn't really know if that is instilled in our character until we are tried. HE knows if it's an integral part of us...but we do not. The experience is for our benefit and knowledge, not His.

Case in point. There is a certain amount of silliness to this but it was a revelation to me at the time.

When I was...a lot...younger, in my late teens, I had some contempt for those who fainted or screamed their head off at the sight of a movie star, or lead singer and I was certain that I would never go Ga-ga over any celebrity. I would never be a gawker and had proved it when I was in grade school and was on a field trip to Palm Springs to a museum and we ran into Red Skelton.

All the other kids were just wacko and crowded around him begging for an autograph. I don't think he was having a very good day anyway and he was...not funny...at all. In fact he was rude and abrupt and gave out the autographs with the impatience of one dealing with the unclean. A teacher had some paper and made sure that all of us kids got an autograph. I was so disenchanted with the whole thing that as the bus pulled away I let my little slip of paper with a famous person's signature flitter away out the bus window with no remorse whatsoever.

"Cured", I thought, "Celebrities do not deserve my adulation just because they're celebrities."

Then, when I was twenty and Steve and I went to Sundance to ski, Lo and Behold who should be riding the lift chair right behind me? Yes, the Sundance Kid himself, in all his rugged handsomeness.

I. Could. Not. Take. My. Eyes. Off. Of. Him. Talk about rubbernecking. Oh my gosh. Steve was embarrassed for me and probably a bit miffed too. I honestly couldn't help myself. It was like a powerful magnetic draw. I'm mortified even now. Then later in the lodge, after I'd taken myself in hand and reprimanded myself firmly knowing that I would never, NEVER do that again, he came in and sat at the end of our long table with some friends and, I'm ashamed to say, it Happened Again.

I know...it wasn't anything earthshaking. Nothing truly horrible happened, not even a stiff neck. But it was a revelation to me. I did not know myself as well as I thought I did.

Since then, as I've experienced different things, from the uncomfortable to the painful, from the scary to the terrifying, I've tried more and more to make the connection between how I react, and how I should react.

"And if men come unto me I will show unto them their weakness. I give unto men weakness that they may be humble; and my grace is sufficient for all men that humble themselves before me; for if they humble themselves before me, and have faith in me, then will I make weak things become strong unto them."

An apt lesson for this time of year as we celebrate the birth of our Savior and the "Good News".