We've Got Problems

We've got problems. Who doesn't, right? But our problems look like this:

And this:

And this:

No, we are not doing some sort of remodel or weird Fung Shui. This, among other things, is what it takes to leave the house safely. Just to go to church. Just to go to the grocery store. Cabinet locks to keep Mom from rifling through my make-up and hair products; shut-off valves to keep her from flooding the first two floors (again); and knobs removed from the stove so-- well, I'm sure you have it figured out.

Do these seem like huge problems to you? If I'm being honest, they really aren't big problems. It's just that, sometimes in my self-pity and pride, I wish these were not the problems we had. I wish we had "normal" problems like the rest of the people our age. You know, scheduling conflicts or health insurance that doesn't cover an endoscopy or children who don't appreciate the drum set we got their children for Christmas. Those sorts of things. Not parenting a parent. Not baby-proofing a house for a child that will never grow out of it. Not a ministry that will only end when my mother takes her last breath. These snapshots, these measures we have to implement, measures that will increase as we go along, are minor symptoms of a much larger disease.

Our whole world is broken. Sin's entrance and our acceptance of it-- alliance with it --makes this world the less than perfect place God originally created. That is the nature of the beast. However, in Christ, by His death and resurrection, we have hope for a perfect future and a new life today. Now I say all this because, a) as a disciple of Jesus Christ, I need to tell you the truth, and b) because, as a disciple, brokenness and the problems that plague me are all my fault. You see, in the moments that ratcheting sound of a child lock reminds me of all I have to go through, in the seconds it takes me to bend with bad knees to the floor and twist my arm behind pipes to shut off the water, and in the quest to hide all of my burner knobs-- my burner knobs from my kitchen --self-pity can rear its ugly prideful head. This is ridiculous! I shouldn't have to live like this. Why can't she just be normal? Our house looks like a war zone! I'm ashamed to have people over! This is all her fault. If she'd only taken better care of herself.  Under the cheapest of microscopes, I can see none of that is true. It is the hyperbole and dramatic trickery of an enemy. But it's these sorts of things, when spoken and entertained again and again, that can convince me my problems are with my mother. That it is all her fault. That she should serve as the target for all of my frustration.

Friends, my problem is not my mother. Nor is it the fact that waterproof carpeting in my house would be wildly unattractive and fireproof furniture just doesn't exist. My problem is me. If I really want to tell on myself, my problem starts with how I feel about the places God has put me, the ministry to which He has called me, the way He has planned for me to serve Him, and the mother He gave me. And, if you've been around any length of time, you know, when you've got a problem with God, the problem is you. My problems are good problems to have. Yes, because I have hair products and make-up to hide my flaws; yes, because we have running water; yes, because we have a kitchen that makes me happy and is a place where we can cook and fellowship. But these are good problems because God is showing me how to hold these things loosely, to steward them and take care that we don't lose them, but to not be concerned with how I think things are supposed to be, to learn to live in such a way that I love those whom He loves. He is teaching me that His way is better way than the self-serving way, and they look very different from one another. He is teaching me that when my relationships with the things and the others around me seem to be full of problems, I need to first examine my relationship with Him. It is our broken relationship with God that causes us brokenness among one another-- that causes us to break one another. 

I've got problems. We've all got problems. But what is God using your problems to say to you?