Wednesday, April 25, 2018

Curious Cats

Curisoity killed the cat. This is probably one of the most disturbing sayings we use. Not only does it indicate the untimely and unexpected death of a cat, but it also implies that the death was preventable.

Several years ago my curisoity got the best of me. Despite reading very sound advice from Beth Moore in her book So Long Insecurity, I persisted with investigative skills and well-crafted questions until I felt I had all of the information I needed. The result? A part of me died. I had gone way too far and the consequences were devastating. Thankfully, Jesus is excellent at proving death is not the end and seven years later I can tell you without hesitation that new life is growing.

What's difficult about curiosity is that we honestly believe that knowledge is power. Granted in some instances it is. However, that is a man-made piece of advice, commonly attributed to Sir Francis Bacon. And while his last name might evoke confidence because how can anything bad come from bacon, man made advice is not the same as Biblical wisdom.

Which brings me to my current situation and maybe yours.

How do we draw the line between healthy curiosity that we believe is for our benefit when it might be detrimental to someone else?

My friend that I have mentioned with memory problems is now in a much better place. She can receive the care she needs and will be much safer than she was on her own. However, the transition to her new living sitution is taking a toll on me. I am so used to her presence and so accustomed to spending time with her that the dramatic shift in my schedule is throwing me completely off.

Now, I planned on visiting her within the next few days. I am borderline desperate to see with my own eyes that she is in good hands. (there might be a little bit of ego involved here) In reality, I know she is, but when it's someone you care a great deal about, I do believe there is value in the phrase seeing is believing.

But my plans have changed. Her adjustment is far worse than mine and she still believes she can come home. And so I have to accept the fact that seeing me, reminding her of the home she knew, really isn't in her best interest. And as much as it pains me, that's what loving someone well is really all about. Loving them in their best interest.

Thankfully I also have lessons learned the hard way to lean on. The curiosity I had all those years ago that ended up causing a lot of pain can be avoided this time. I can choose to wait until it's best for her before I see her upset and in turn make it worse for myself. Not something I love to admit or want to accept but doesn't change the facts.

What's beautiful about this is the reminder of a promise. God promises to bring beauty from our ashes. And while the circumstances couldn't be more different, the lesson learned is bringing forth fruit all these years later in a most unexpected way. The reminder is that we can trust God to reveal what we need to know, when we need to know it. We'll not only save ourselves heartache but also allow Him to grow our faith and confidence in His ability to manage things much better than we ever could.

Wherever we are, whatever situation we find ourselves in the middle of, we can choose to believe that God has it all under control. And if we allow Him to lead us through it, not only will we come out on the other side of it, but we might gain a truer understanding of why it's so much better to have Him in the driver's seat. And for those of us old enough to understand this reference, it's probably best if we are in the rear facing seat of an old station wagon, lest we get tempted to try to offer alternate routes or shortcuts.

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