Thanks for the Lice

Today is our third day of a four day road trip in Altoona. If I were to rate this town on hospitality, I would give it a 2 on a scale of 1-10. The hotel is clean, the ball park is nice, but the people are incredibly rude.

Case Study #1:
If a hotel serves a complimentary breakfast, they don't "card" you to make sure you are worthy of the food.

They do in Altoona. "No breakfast for you," I was informed. "You're with the baseball team. You have to pay."

O.k. That's fine. There is a Dunkin Doughnuts down the street. Their coffee is much better anyway.

Case Study #2:
Wives and girlfriends always get complimentary tickets to the game. For the most part, the tickets are behind home plate, and behind the net. This is very important when packing a baby along, as bats, balls, and who knows what all has a tendancy to helicopter into the stands at alarming speeds. Sitting outside the protection of the net is risky, to say the least.

There are five Harrisburg "girls" here, plus three babies ranging from 12-17 months. As strangers in a foreign land, we childishly chose to sit together. Bad idea. About the 5th or 6th inning, a fairly disgusted usher asked us to move, informing us that we were in someone else's seats. No big deal. We started packing, frantically tossing the toys, the books, the snacks, and the various paraphanalia inherant in ballpark living back into our purses and diaper bags. Unfortunately, we didn't pack fast enough for him.

Off we went, a little band of gypsies, seeking a new row to plop our purses. A few sections over, there were five seats, empty. Eureka! Weaving our way through the 4th of July stampede, we tromped towards the Promise Land. Another bad idea. A second vigilant usher barred the way, asking for our tickets. Ahh...

We explained that we had just been evicted and wanted to sit together. He looked around and found four seats farther up the first base side. They were open all right, but they were also about 10 feet outside the net. Grrr! It was the 6th inning, and we were tired of fighting with the ushers. Defeated, we sat down and watched for foul balls. We survived the next four innings without any injuries, but weren't too pleased.

The next night, our boys came to the rescue. They left us a combined total of 15 tickets, behind the net. We had an entire row to ourselves. It was beautiful! We weren't ejected, glared at, or in danger. What a great game.

But even as I sit here ranting and raving about the rude hotel clerks and ushers, I am convicted, knowing that we are right where the Lord wants us to be, and that at times I am just as unlovable and frustrating as all the people who have ruffled my feathers over the past few days.

This morning, before Josh left for work, we listened to a pod cast of our pastor's second message on the book of Ecclesiates. As he taught from Chapter 3, he emphasized the soveriegnty of God and His absolute control over all circumstances. He opened the message with the question, "Is everything out of control?"

His answer: "Out of your control, yes. Out of God's, no."

This really hit home for me today, as it has been so easy for me of late to have a frustrated and some what questioning spirit. Why does my husband have to have a 5.80 ERA? He was doing so well, Lord. Why did that have to happen? Why are these people so rude? This is only AA, do they think this is the big leagues? On, and on, and on.

It is very hard to be thankful and full of joy when that tape is on continual rerun. But the Holy Spirit taught me today that He has us here, in Altoona, PA, with a 5.80 ERA, where the people may be rude, for a reason. Granted, I don't quite know the reason. But I do know that by being frustrated and discontent I miss the opportunities the Lord gives me to shine the light of Christ into the lives of the other wives and girlfriends who are experiencing the exact same frustrations and doubts that I am. I forfeit the joy of encouragement, the salve of sympathy, and the laughter over shared foibles.

Tom ended his message today with a story from Corrie Ten Boom's life. One day while she and her sister where in the Nazi concentration camp, they were praying, and thanking God for all their blessings. As Corrie was finishing the prayer, her sister stopped her and said, "Corrie, don't forget to thank God for the lice," which had been tormenting the Ten Boom sisters and their fellow prisoners for weeks. Corrie did as she was told.

Much later, she found out that because the lice were so bad in their barracks, the guards never entered. This gave Corrie and her sister complete freedom to share the Gospel, teach God's word, and sing praises to Him, without ever being disturbed.

So by the grace of Christ, I am thanking the Lord for the "lice" in my life and praying that I may one day see the beauty of this slight, momentary affliction, and rejoice its eternal significance.