Wait a Minute!

Let me say at this point, before I proceed any further, that currently being where I am in the spiritual journey, significantly and happily well-advanced beyond many if not all of my airhead deb ways, I have realized that spiritual growth is not a straight-line affair, but rather is characterized by lags and spurts, with uneven inclusions and perceptions all along the way. By that I mean that a person may have one area of her person well-developed, knowledge ability for example, but also have a great deficit in her person of training in application of that knowledge. Thus her knowledge is practically useless to her. This is how being a human being is. It’s not just me. We can be up to speed in one area and, simultaneously, rapidly going nowhere in another, even if that area is acutely pertinent.

From the above argument, one can now easily arrive at a clear understanding that without the protective garb of layer-upon-layer of spiritual acumen, any journeying soul is perilously vulnerable to the clever and deceptive influences lurking around every turn in the road ahead. Without spiritual acumen one is, regardless of one’s other and many fine attributes, passing through life unshielded against many of the most dire threats. Therefore, my advice, thoughtful reader--never go out without your faith well-learned, well understood, well practiced—at the ready! And you can never start too young to learn or teach the same, either!

Consider this: As I have remarked, due to my airhead ways, I have missed several important moments in life. One such moment missed was that I failed to arrange infant baptism for Kathleen. Never mind--with a shock, when she was two years old I remembered this oversight and arranged for baptism. Now Catholics reading this are probably horrified by that delay, fearing I could possibly have endangered a child’s very soul. Protestants, on the other hand, are probably upset that I felt she needed infant baptism at all, being that they think baptism is a consensual adult’s opportunity for witness. So I pleased no one, really, except God (He honors all such behaviors, when they honor Him.) and, strangely, that was all that really mattered to me at the time and I thank Him for this rescued moment.

My real point here, though, is that if my relationship with God was shallow, His relationship with me was not. Yet again, He yanked me out of my complacency when Kathleen was 4 years old, strenuously pointing out to me that I was going to miss the moment of training up my child in His person and ways if I did not immediately get started that, in fact, 4 years old was almost too late to begin this saturation process for a child.

How did He do this, you reasonably ask?

It was a delightful summer evening. Richard and I were relaxing in conversation, when this new time-sensitive shockwave hit me. Suddenly, and I do mean suddenly, I knew that I MUST read the Bible to Kathleen. Virtually breathless and in a light sweat, I latched onto my Pearl S. Buck Story Bible (a huge, beautifully written thing.) and dashed upstairs to Kathleen’s room where she contentedly sat playing with her little Hot Wheels cars (A new one of which her father bought for her every time we went to the grocery store—and I do mean EVERY time—and we all 3 always went to the grocery store together.) Reeling from my adrenaline surge, I dropped down beside Kathleen and asked her if I could start reading the Bible to her, explaining that I would like to do that every day if she would like. She readily agreed while continuing playing. I opened the book at the beginning and began Genesis.

A couple of weeks later , in the middle of a particularly complex passage, I stopped and asked her if the Bible stories were too much for her and could she even recall any of these lists of things of which the book could be so full. She tilted her head up from her play and proceeded to effortlessly repeat from memory every one of the seven plagues of Egypt that I had just enumerated to her. She then went back to her play. Stunned, I fumbled to relocate my place on the page and returned to my reading.

You see, God knew that Kathleen was neither too young nor mentally undeveloped for His Word. So He got me on the job, and that job pleasurably lasted for years and years. Ask Kathleen. And I knew even then that had there been more children around, they too, at any age, would have fit into our hour of reading.

So take heart, thoughtful reader. There is this great thing—no matter how many lags and spurts one experiences in one’s spiritual journey, one can still be remembered by God. Bless Him, God often does take the initiative even when you cannot—if He thinks you will notice and respond rightly to His promptings, just as He must have known that, if only in this one particular case, I would respond rightly to His call. What a great thought with which to comfort myself and indirectly you in this soul-journey we share.

God is there.

God is in control.

God is so good!

To Be Continued . . .