God Hates Mildew

I’ve been reading in the OT lately, you know all the begats and do’s and don’ts. This is that section of the Bible most of us call “boring”. Got to Leviticus and there again is a long list of what to do…with mildew. Doesn’t sound very spiritual. Seems way outside the ten commandments. Why would God be interested in mildew? (Further reading shows that he has a lot to say about our physical bodies, health, nutrition, cleanliness and even sanitation.)

Actually, the more I read, the more I was intrigued. I’ve read this before, yet something struck me afresh this time around. One thing I saw in this was our Father’s amazing care for all of life, down to the smallest details. He wants to be a part of everything in my life, not to keep me occupied with busywork, but involved for my own good. He continually points me to things that are good for me.

I have to admit I couldn’t help but think of another application in my own life, too. Is there “destructive” mildew creeping in that needs to be destroyed before I see serious damage? Are there things in my life that need to be “torn out”, “washed and cleaned” or “destroyed by fire”? Are there things that look innocuous in my life, but may be eating away below the surface? The priest is charged with discerning which type of mildew is present and what needs to be done in each case. Who do I have in my life that can help me discern where I need gentle change or where I need significant evaluation and maybe serious uprooting?

Most of all I have a new reminder that everything matters. All of life is connected. God is interested in my spiritual life and my relationship with him, of course. Yet he is also concerned about my soul and my body, my physical and emotional health. There is nothing in my life outside of God’s concern, even something so seemingly insignificant like mildew.

I Didn’t Choose…

I didn’t choose to…break my ankle!

I’ve had a lot of time to sit and think lately, mostly because I have had a cast on my right foot up to the knee for the past six weeks. I have spent a lot of time in our recliner with my foot elevated.

In August we were teaching at a family camp in France. We were so excited to be back in the land for which we have such a heart and burden. The day we finished our teaching for the week, I was going down a short staircase of six steps. I took the first two quite well. For some unexplained reason, I tried to take the last four all at once. (Not on purpose, I assure you!) I found myself on the ground, holding my leg and moaning loudly in a very undignified manner. I glanced down at my foot and noticed that it was cocked at about a 30 degree angle from my leg. My first thought was, “That doesn’t look right. What in the world have I done?”

Bottom line: I spent six days in the hospital in Grenoble, France (I later learned it has a world renowned orthopedic department.) I had dislocated my foot and broken three bones in my ankle. I had surgery to put in a plate on the outside ankle, two rods on the inside ankle, and ten screws to hold it all together.

As I have thought about this experience it is like so many others in my life. I didn’t choose this. Actually, I have gotten to experience many things in life I didn’t choose…accidents, malaria, stolen items, riots, lost documents, childhood traumas, our own children’s traumas, Margaret’s stroke, etc. You understand, because you have also been through these kinds of things. I can choose what I eat for the next meal, but so much of life I don’t choose, it just happens.

When we got stuck in France for two extra weeks, I saw the Father give us opportunities to share with college students who were at the same conference center. They were there from all over France for a week of training. Several were third culture kids and didn’t know that term or how it applied to them until I explained. Some were seeking discernment about a major for the coming year or work situations. I got to listen, encourage and pray with them, opportunities I would not have had if I didn’t break my ankle.

So, I have chosen to see God’s hand at work in these things. Sometimes I see immediately and other times a bit later. Sometimes it takes me a while to see how God has worked. Yet, he has always been faithful. In faith I choose to wait and see how he will work in these experiences I didn’t choose.