Pardon me if you have already heard this one already.
“How many teens does it take to change a light bulb?”
ANSWER – ONE
They stand on a step stool, hold onto the bulb, and wait for the whole world to rotate around them.
If you are, or have been, the parent of a teen, chances are you might be chuckling and nodding your head “Yes”.
If you have a perfect teen then hats off to you, this is just a joke so please don’t send me hate mail about your perfect kid.
If you are a teen, chances are the muscles in your retinas just detached, allowing your eyeballs to roll around in the sockets like tennis balls in a drier.
But, as funny as the joke seems as first, I wonder how close to the truth that actually is. Not regarding teens, but how we, in the church, sometimes approach prayer.
I was recently praying about our living situation and the fact that we would really love to be in a location that felt more like “home”. It has been something that John and I have talked about quite a bit. Several months ago it looked like his job might transfer us to where we have lived most of our married life and we would be close to our grandbaby. I was ecstatic.
When the call came that the job did not go through, I was crushed.
“Maybe God is too busy in Bangladesh.” I grabbed a Kleenex. “I totally understand, I mean compared to poverty and famine, this is really an insignificant request.” I wiped away a few tears. Okay, I admit, it was more than a few. I had already taken few boxes to Goodwill and was ready to pack.
I felt my eyes start to roll around like my retinas had detached. The sound of tennis balls in a metal drum echoed in my head.
The following week I was still wrestling with disappointment and was praying about feeling frustrated and reminding the Lord of all the reasons why moving would have be in our best interest.
Reluctantly, I watered a little patch of lawn in front of our house.
“I don’t even want to be here!” I grumbled, the familiar tension pulled at my shoulder muscles.
Squeezing my thumb over the end of the hose, I let the spray lift into the air before falling onto the plants. A little zip of color darted in, not bigger than a leaf from the nearby tree. It hovered at the spray’s edge.
Squinting my middle-age eyes I saw a tiny hummingbird, letting water droplets hit it’s delicate body. After a few moments it flew to the nearby branch, shook ,and preened emerald colored feathers back into place.
I couldn’t take my eyes off the little creature as it danced around the misty edge again and again. It was as if time slowed enough to capture the moment and etch the image somewhere deep in my soul.
That is when I felt the heavy hand of the Lord on my heart.
How many times do I want to be showered with blessings, much like the little humming bird who savors what it cannot possibly provide for itself?
Do I really trust that the Lord hears my prayers? Or am I quick to step on the stool, hold onto the lightbulb, and impatiently expect God to rotate everything around me?
How do we know that sometimes we aren’t supposed to be the one holding the hose?
I felt my eyes refocus. I guess you could say I had my own “lightbulb” moment.
Philippians 4:6 “Do not be anxious about anything, but in everything, by prayer and petition, with thanksgiving, present your requests to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard you hearts and minds in Christ.”
How about you? Have you ever had a “lightbulb” moment?
I would love to hear about it!