What Do You Do When You Don't Get Your Way?

Yesterday was Wednesday -- "hump" day -- the middle of the week. The day following our President's speech directed to children -- encouraging them to stay and do well in school -- a speech that too many folks did not want him to make. As one man put it: I don't want my child to be a little community organizer. This week I am listening to Mr. Obama's first book as I tool around the city in my Jeep. I spend a lot of time in my Jeep it seems. When I first heard the term community organizer I had an inkling, but now have learned a little more. In essence, what Mr. Obama did as a community organizer, was bring people together to work on problems to benefit their individual and common good -- the kind of stuff that many take for granted. (stuff we take for granted will be addressed at another time.) It turns out that when one reaps an individual benefit, it does affect the common good. But, again, I'll save that for another time. Back to the issue at hand -- Wednesday -- hump day.

Wednesday is a really special day. No matter how grueling it is, I try really hard to end it by four o'clock. If it all possible I like to spend 30 minutes or so with the beautiful rosewood Steinway that sits in the sanctuary of That Place where my family of God assembles for a myriad of reasons and activities (see previous blog). I missed that time yesterday, but arrived in time for dinner --- succulent, juicy, well-seasoned chicken breast tenders, a baked potato (custom loaded by yours truly), fresh leafy salad (they even remember I'm allergic to tomatoes), a roll that rivals any (even those from my mom's kitchen [don't tell her I said that -- even at 90 her baked goods are as scrumptious as they were 50 years ago]), and finished with a perfect peanut butter cookie (baked in our Place's kitchen, of course). Hmm. Anyway, trust me, I don't just go for the food. More importantly, I go for the fellowship and all that word encompasses.

There is something special about communing with a group of folks who share a common belief. It is the tie that binds our hearts in (at least in this case) Christian love. The fellowship part includes my pastor visiting our tables, taking a few moments for us to catch up with each other. Then we review our newsletter and get updates on what's happening with our friends and family. Then we have prayer. And then we begin Bible study, which brings us to the question pastor Steve asked yesterday evening: What do you do when you don't get your way?

I have yet to shake that question from the forefront of my thoughts. After Bible study I went to choir rehearsal -- as usual a mixed bag of musical genres. And, confronted with two pieces I really don't feel yet -- one in Spanish and another in a language I dare not even guess (something from Africa [no offense to my African brothers and sisters]), that question loomed in my mind: What do you do when you don't get your way? After rehearsal, getting into my second home (the Jeep [perhaps I should give it a name -- something gender nonspecific]), I received a phone call, and after my usual greeting -- this is Andrea -- what I heard was not hey, how're ya' doin' -- or the more gutteral vernacular -- whassup? -- but instead: did you hear that #!!*@??? (Remember Watergate? -- expletive deleted.) Anyway, no, I did not hear Joe Wilson. By now, most folks know who he is, so I'll just move right along. But after hearing the Joe Wilson excercise in uncivilized behavior (at least here in the United States -- not so in England or some Asian countries), there was that question again: What do you do when you don't get your way?

So, what about that question? Here are some broad strokes on the complicated canvass we call life (trite, huh?).

1. You remember your commitment. If you made it, you should honor it.

Is your commitment to your political party, or the people you represent, or to yourself? Is the oath you took a meaningless jumble of words -- you know, allegiance to the Constitution of the United States, swearing to well and faithfully discharge duties, blah, blah blah? These are questions -- particularly to legislators who enjoy great medical insurance and retirement benefits that are the envy of the folks they represent -- that merit answers. And don't forget these little gems: How many lobbyists do you actually know? Commune with? accept gifts from?

Suggestion to all: ask your legislator (how about all of them?) where his* loyalty lies.

2. You remember who's in charge. If you're not the leader, then you're a follower. If you dont' want to follow, get the heck out of the way.

Is your commitment to be the best choir member you can be, by following the instructions of the director, knowing that despite the numbers of bodies, there is only one soprano, one alto, one tenor, one bass (meaning if you screw it up there goes the whole section -- whether 2 or 12 or 20)? Is your commitment to serve at your whim, or to serve your God (mine gets the capital "G" -- how about yours) and minister to His people through music?

Note to self: review the Spanish and African language songs at home so you won't feel like a large-lipped bungling idiot trying to pronounce "mbwe" while in choir rehearsal.

3. You remember that He is the way -- so make your way His way. (Warning: you may not get with this blurb. That's okay for now; I pray that one day you will).

I have learned that most times our way is not the right way. We devise and scheme, plot and plan to shape, form and fashion what is right according to our own whims. Actually, we give little thought to the "rightness" of it all. Sure, we sometimes whitewash it in some lie on the Lord or Holy Spirt. You know of what I speak: I prayed and I prayed and the Lord showed me . . . The Lord led me to . . . The Spirit spoke to me and said . . . . Am I sayingHe doesn't speak to us? Absolutely not! He's always speaking to us; the problem is we are rarely listening. Why? Because usually we are hell bent on having our way. And most likely, that is where our way will take us: straight to hell. (Or as one man told me when I, substituting for his church's minister of music, asked the choir to reign in their conduct: Well, you know, we have our traditions, to which I replied: Yeah, and your traditions might take you straight to hell. Anyway, moving right along. . . .

The truth be told (another trite little saying), if we listened more often, we would have our way a lot less. But, we forge ahead with whatever, and when we get ourselves in another mess, He is still there. As the song says: Everytime I come back to Him, He is waiting with open arms, and I see once again He's been faithful to me. (That's really a nice song. Thank you, Carol Cymbala of Brooklyn Tabernacle.)

Sometimes not having our way is painful. This year has been chocked full of the most gut-wrenching pain I have ever experienced. I lost someone very dear to me in a most unsettling way -- not to a natural death, which is a natural progression of life -- but to divorce, which is the crudest tearing away (I rate it right up there with murder). If I had gotten my way, rather than having grieved over the loss of possibilities and potential, we would now be nurturing the growth and development of a viable means of help others. My thought about this last night: sometimes when we don't get our way it is because we have no control. And that thought begs the question: what do we do when we don't have control? Well, I'm glad you asked.

Even when I don't have control, The Way -- the Maker and Creator of us all -- is in control. He did not call Himself a Christian; He called Himself The Way. So whether it is a control issue or a getting my way issue (is there any difference? I think not), I choose to focus on Him. Only He has the ability to make sense out of confusion, turn darkness to light, open blind eyes and deaf ears that truth may be seen and heard, to melt hearts of stone. I pray for the day that my steps -- not some, but all -- are ordered in The Way -- the Word, the Truth, the Light. The Way is all that and much more.

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*Please be reminded I care nothing for being politically correct. Use whatever gender pronoun you deem appropriate.