Irony and Humility

I think God loves irony. I see it constantly, and wonder if he laughs out loud over things I notice. At the very least, I know He can use irony in our lives.

For example, when I was in college, I noticed Bruce at the Baptist Student Union (BSU). He was tall, had nice broad shoulders and gorgeous blue eyes. We had friends in common and went to their house for impromptu Bible studies. I even dated Bruce's friend for a couple weeks before we both realized there was just nothing there.

I met with my prayer sister weekly at the BSU. I vividly remember telling her I thought Bruce was cute and that I'd like to marry someone like him one day. Not him, though, because he was too young. He's three and a half years younger than I am.

A few years later, we were married.

Another example. Early in marriage, Bruce and I discussed the perfect number of children to have. He said two, I said three, but only because we both come from families with three children. After awhile, I switched to his way of thinking, though, and two sounded like plenty.

When we first got pregnant, I prayed for twins. "Oh Lord, please let us have two in one whack with this pregnancy. Then we can be done. And if it's not too much to ask, I'd like one of each gender. You know. If you're taking orders or anything."

Our first pregnancy was a singleton one, and Clay was born. Oh, I loved everything about being a mom. That kid was perfect. Life was perfect... and by the way, did I mention that I was the perfect mom? It felt like that most days.

Because I am older than my husband, we didn't want to wait too many years to think about baby number two, so when Clay was near 18 months old we tried again.

And that's when God blessed us with twins. I got my three children... all in diapers at once. And from the day that Spencer and Allison were born I never, ever felt like the perfect mom again.

You see? Irony.

These past couple of weeks, I've been getting a wave of it again.

I mentioned in a previous post that I was thankful for God answering prayers, even if they aren't the answer we always want. I didn't go into much detail because I had not yet informed others involved of the new direction that God was taking me.

I am not going to be teaching Sunday school along with JoElla next year in the youth department. I love it. I love those girls, but many things have happened in the past several months that have shown me that God wants me to be at home more.

I am a stay-at-home mom. Have been for eight years. How much more "at home" does He want me to be? Just enough to show the difference between quantity and quality.

I was set to tell our 7th and 8th grade girls last Sunday that I won't be there next fall. It was JoElla's turn to teach... and the lesson was on perseverance.

Now, how was I supposed to tell those girls that I wasn't teaching the following year after a lesson on perseverance?

Irony.

This past Sunday was my turn to teach. The lesson was on humility. I could inform our class about my future absence after teaching humility much better than I could have after learning about perseverance! Yay God!

The previous week was a busy one, so I began preparations later than I usually do. And, specifically, after a nice little lesson in humility on the home front.

I mow our yard most of the time. I enjoy it. But there has been one small glitch the last several times I have mowed. The rear left tire on the mower has a leak, so each time before I mow, I have to pump that thing full of air. By the time I'm finished, it's nearly flat again though. There just hasn't been time or money to get it fixed.

I also told Bruce the last couple of times I mowed that he needed to fill our gas containers because the tank was running low. Still, I hopped on the mower, thinking I'd get done what I could and finish the rest after Bruce got home and filled up the gas containers.

I put in the key, pulled out the choke thingie, and turned the key, and then... nothing. No engagement of engine. Hmmm. Okay, let's try again, I thought. BUT THE DUMB KEY WOULD NOT TURN OFF! The lights were lit up, so I knew the battery had its juices flowing, but the engine would not turn over. Not even a hiccup.

Have I ever mentioned that I have massive issues when mechanical things don't function as they should? Deep-seated issues.

I think my irritation comes from the fact that I have no clue how to fix such mechanical items when they don't function as they should. I am deeply insulted when anything with a cord or battery does not operate when I expect it to.

I spent 15 minutes sitting on that mower, turning the key from one side to another. No difference. No engine. Lights were on, battery was flowing. Temper was rising.

I looked up and noticed Spencer and Allison watching me. I told them to get lost because Mommy was about to blow! Something like that anyway. They quickly scurried out of the garage to play in the yard.

A few minutes later, I called my unsuspecting husband and let loose.

"I am sick of stuff not working. I pumped up that tire, and got on this mower knowing I couldn't finish the yard because there isn't enough gas and it's supposed to rain on and off all of next week. Now the stupid thing won't start. I am not mowing again until this thing is fixed. Maybe we just need a new one!"

I ranted. He took it for longer than any spouse should. And then he told me to hush so he could tell me how to unhook the battery so he could look the mower over when he got home.

Bruce and I do not communicate well when I am in a snit and he tries to explain things over the phone. He's speaking Greek and I'm fluently spouting off Grouch. We got nowhere but more frustrated.

And then he hung up on me.

Oh, I could see where this was going. Straight to a dead battery. One more broken thing.

I told the kids to get inside because there would be no mowing that day. And then I stomped upstairs leaving the lights on the mower shining for all they were worth.

When Bruce called back a few minutes later, I did not want to answer. But I did. And he walked me through unhooking the battery.

And then he told me that instead of blogging about all my Christian thoughts, I should spend more time learning how to treat him with respect. Can you believe his gall? I couldn't. Respecting him at that moment was the very last thing I wanted to do.

I had a few niggling thoughts of conscience, but I tried really hard to stuff them down deep. I wasn't finished being mad at the mower for its inconsideration by being broken.

A few hours later, the anger was gone. I realized where my daughter gets her dramatic episodes and that I had just shown her a new way to pitch a fit. I knew I would be apologizing to Bruce as soon as he got home, probably beforehand in a phone call.

I talked to Spencer and Allison and told them I'd blown it and didn't act with any self control. (Again with the irony... how am I supposed to teach these kids self control?)

Then, I sat down to work on preparing for Sunday's lesson. On humility. And here are a few phrases that jumped all over me.

"Many... equate the words humility and weakness. The truth is, it takes a lot of strength and control to be humble.... Being humble is also a sign of Christlikeness.... Christians must wrestle with how to be Christlike on a daily basis."

And then there was a little checklist for the youth to do in their flyers. I always work through their flyers, too, as part of my preparation. The directions said to "Place a check mark next to the items below that display an attitude of humility." And the very first place I checked? "Respecting others."

Can't you see the irony? I usually prepare much earlier in the week, but we were so busy that I didn't. If I had, I might not have been such a dork about the lawnmower. Or at least in how I treated Bruce while I was angry with the lawnmower.

But that's not how it worked out. And in God's timing I got a more meaningful lesson than those girls got on Sunday morning.

It's embarrassing to admit such a weakness to control anger over an inanimate object. But it's real. I'm real. And I am not perfect.

And in all my blogging on my Christian thoughts, if there's ever been any doubt about what a sinful, selfish person I am, then I haven't been giving the correct representation. I think the lawnmower episode pretty much takes care of that, don't you?

By the way, Bruce replaced the whole ignition key area on the lawnmower. And the tire has been fixed as well. We even have a couple containers full of gas, too.

It's probably safe for me to mow again.