Devotional
The Lesson Was FreshβAnd So Was My Inconvenience
Last Sundayβs sermon was about contentmentβhow itβs not about the CON-tents of our lives
but about the CON-tentment found in Christ. It was a message about learning to depend on God alone, even when created things are taken away. I nodded along, took notes, and thought, Wow. Amen. Period. What a powerful truth.
Less than an hour later, I was living that truth. After church, I had a free afternoon aheadβerrands to run, a nail appointment scheduled, and just enough time to stop by the mall to grab a glowy skin tint Iβd been wanting to try. I had everything: time, money, a well-running car, and good spirits. I was in for a comfortable day.
But when I parked at the mall, I did something uncharacteristic. I paused. Iβm not much of a
linger in the car type, but something unrelated had been pricking at me. So I took a moment to
acknowledge the nagging sense of unease to God and cast it on Him. After praying, I did something even more uncharacteristic: I checked my bank app. Now, I never do this. I only use one account and always assume Iβm covered for any given day. But this time, I checked. And there it was. Nearly $400 stolen. Just gone.
That sure didnβt seem like an answer to prayer. Yet, here I was, fresh out of a sermon about
contentment not being in the CON-tent of your life, and a thief had just cleaned out the
CON-tents of my bank account. The irony was not lost on me.
I called my bank, filed a dispute, and was told they had to cancel my debit card and send me a
new one. Totally reasonable. But then it hit me.
I had no backup card. The banks were closed. My now-canceled card wouldnβt work at an ATM.
I am literally too technologically deficient to know how to use Apple Pay. (At this point, itβs a
personal failing.) And since I rarely carry cashβbecause by girl math, if you use cash, itβs
basically freeβI suddenly couldnβt shop. Or go to my nail appointment.
I went from comfort to discomfort, from abound to abasedβin one aggressive, untimely,
unsuspecting moment.
As the initial pangs of disappointment crept in, I had a choice. I could grumble and indulge in the unfairness of it all, or I could do what the sermon had prepared me to do: surrender.
And by Godβs grace, the lesson was fresh enough in my mind that I didnβt fight it. Instead, I
asked, Okay, God, what are You trying to teach me?
Maybe God wanted me to learn that contentment isnβt just an amen on Sundayβitβs a heart
posture we have to live out when things donβt go as planned. And sometimes, for His more stubborn sheep (like myself), He makes sure the lesson comes with real-time application so that
it sticks.
If something has you uncomfortable this week, maybeβjust maybeβGod is training you to lean
on Him and strengthen that trust muscle (for the zealous gym bro demographic at Revive).
Donβt fight it. Just ask, What are You trying to teach me in this?
And maybe… carry a little cash.
Reflection
I wasnβt really upset about the moneyβI knew the bank would refund it and all would be
restored. What did bother me was the feeling that I was robbed.
When expectations go unmet, when health declines, when dreadful delays taunt you, when
people fail youβitβs not just about the thing that went wrong. Itβs the sense that we were
cheated out of what we perceived as our rightful possession.
Endings and loss feel wrong because they are wrong. God set eternity in the human heart
(Ecclesiastes 3:11). We werenβt designed to experience brokenness.
This is why faith has to be preemptiveβbecause when the inevitable loss comes, when the
inevitable hurt comes, and when our flesh inevitably responds, itβs our built-up faith and
knowledge of Jesus that guard us from the full impact.
We can acknowledge the reality that it hurts while also holding onto the truth that we arenβt left
as orphans in the turmoil of this post-Fall world.
Itβs a both/and.
(As the Pastor loves to say.) |
