My daughter, the fourth generation Prophet, graced us with sundry gems during her time in our home. One that I cherish the most was when she was working at the bike shop.
She came to work on time (of course). Her boss was supposed to be there early to do a number of items related to opening the store. On that day, he had done none of his work because he was tied up on a lengthy phone call. He motioned for her to do the requisite tasks.
As she laconically reported that evening, “I didn’t know how to do it, but I did it anyway.”
That’s my girl.
My life is filled with people who have cultivated a lifestyle of helplessness. They are convinced that they can’t and therefore I must. The e-mails are many, varied and tiresome.
A new name popped up on the screen a few months ago. Lucy. She clearly had some issues and clearly felt that I needed to provide some things for her.
I declined. I assured her that she had the Holy Spirit and her human spirit and between the two of them, they could dig out a lot of useful resources from the Word of God and, if necessary, from some of my teachings.
I called it fathering. I wanted to unpack the treasures that I was sure were in her, rather than validate her powerlessness.
Lucy gulped — and she did it. She worked hard and in time began to get a little bit of traction in her life. And like the Noble Subject she is rapidly becoming, as soon as she got a few scraps of life for herself, she began considering giving some away.
In a heroic partnership between herself and her God, she did the impossible. Here is the entirety of her terse report.
“Third, last Saturday I was teaching about redemptive gifts in Russian language in Russian speaking church in Melbourne. I am still alive.”
Did you notice the word “third?”
Item one was that she had a problem and found a way to work around it
Item two in her e-mail was that she had another problem and it was eating her lunch big time. (She did not ask for help, just reported her situation and strategy.)
In that context, she gave.
Her expectations were low, and she achieved them. “I am alive.”
I imagine God’s expectations were a bit higher and I suspect she achieved them too — because He was doing the heavy lifting with her — because she was willing to not be powerless even thought she felt powerless.
There is a new meaning, for me, to the phrase, ‘I love Lucy!”
Copyright December 2012 by Arthur Burk
From room 834, while listening to the call to prayer