As you read this message in 90+ degree Sacramento weather, the person who wrote it is probably sitting in unrelenting rain at Manzanita Lake. Despite the prediction of lousy weather, she was heading up north to the mountains Sunday morning ... with this note scheduled to be "auto-sent" from the home computer on Tuesday. Now, a lot can happen between Sunday and Tuesday, so it's kind of a leap of faith to prepare something so far in advance. We can only hope that the information in this newsletter stays the same. Someone in our congregation (whose name won't be mentioned; initials are J.G.) likes to joke about the aftermath of spontaneous actions: "It's easier to seek forgiveness than permission." In that vein, we can probably accept that not everything can be planned ... and not everything planned turns out as, ahem, planned.
Perhaps the unpredictable nature of our lives keeps us on our toes. At the very least, our brain cells keep regenerating from the stimulation brought about by change. And our emotions get a good workout, too, when we realize we have come smack up against something unexpected. No milk for your morning coffee? A light rail train is stuck on the tracks and you'll be late for church? Lost the car keys/phone/wallet (again)? We scream and holler and wail in frustration, all the while trying to figure out alternatives. Oh, if only life was as reliable as the forecasts of meteorologists (and sometimes those guys get it wrong, too).
The old Scout motto "Be Prepared" is a good one; it reminds that we owe it to ourselves and others (and to God) to be capable and confident people—problem-solvers and peace-makers in a chaotic and crazy world. And to take a raincoat. Being prepared, though, is just that: having the tools and techniques to cope with new or different circumstances. It doesn't necessarily mean that we embrace what is happening, nor that it is we who are even in control. We might, for example, "be prepared" for a drought, when instead the heavens unleash a torrent and we end up treading floodwaters. It's just not fair! (Insert: yet more screaming, hollering and wailing.)
The bible tells us that there is a time, and a purpose, for everything. This is hard to understand when it seems things aren't going our way, when change is inevitable, when solutions aren't immediately obvious. (Or—as it often happens—when solutions are obvious to you, no one else "gets it" and you feel alone or angry or upset.) Self-reliant and resilient we may be, but we have to face the fact that it's not what we want—but what God wants for us—that is going to happen. Perhaps it's God who is doing the preparing.
Our hearts could sure use that.
—Cathy Betts Sapunor
