Problems

 

Problems. We've all got them. They vary in size and intensity, severity and impact. 

I'm not sure where I got the idea that I wasn't supposed to have problems, but somewhere along the way that notion made its way into my head, and it created, well, problems.

For instance, when one's philosophy is that everything ought to go swimmingly and then it doesn't – well, that's a problem. 

Furthermore, when one deems every problem that comes one’s way a disaster and blows it all out of proportion – a philosophy I also internalized early – well, here again, we have a problem.

My preferred way of handling problems used to be running from them. Literally walking away from people or situations that caused angst. Door slammed, locked and bolted – at least until the other person cried “uncle”, which was far from guaranteed.

When I couldn’t get away with that strategy, I tried making nice. People-pleasing. Fawning. That often resulted in loss of respect and the opposite of the desired result.

Then there was the “lean waaaaay into the problem and let it overtake every thought” modus operandi. Any happy thought was immediately banished in favor of brooding over THE PROBLEM.

At the ripe, young age of 62, I’m learning there are better ways to handle problems.

First of all, to borrow a phrase from Charles Stanley, I need to update my thinking. Instead of “why me?” my mantra is ever so gradually becoming “why not me?” What makes me think I’m exempt from unfairness from people, places, or things? For that matter, how do I know the “unfairness” isn’t a heavenly nudge meant to grow me?

I’m rereading a book called Thank You for Being Such a Pain. The premise is that life doesn’t just “happen” to us; rather, things arise to teach us something. It’s especially helpful to pay attention when we find ourselves encountering similar situations/people over and over again. Where there are patterns, there are usually reasons for those patterns. Quick disclaimer: the author, who has a delightful, readable style, tends to attribute causes for said patterns to “the universe.” As a Christian, I can’t ascribe events to an unintelligent, created universe. After all, the universe didn’t just happen, did it? Even if one believes in the Big Bang, who or what set off the bang? For every effect there is necessarily a cause, and to me it makes much more sense to believe in an intelligent being who created all the intelligence with which we are blessed. (For more on this topic, see Gregory Koukl’s Street Smarts.)

Now that I’ve gotten totally sidetracked, let me return to the topic at hand. Since I’ve improved in the areas of running away and people-pleasing, the M.O. I’m currently trying to kick to the curb is obsessing over the problem to the exclusion of other aspects of my life.

First of all, that isn’t Biblical. Second Corinthians 10:4-5 says, “ For the weapons of our warfare are not carnal but mighty in God for pulling down strongholds, casting down arguments and every high thing that exalts itself against the knowledge of God, bringing every thought into captivity to the obedience of Christ…”

Paul couldn’t be more clear here. He wants us to view EVERYTHING through the lens of what the Lord is trying to teach us.

So much for ingesting my problems, chewing them up endlessly without spitting them out (perish the thought! That might lead to peace of mind and we can’t have that). So much for centralizing the problem, making it the focus of my life, spending every waking minute pondering solutions and possible approaches to tackle whatever boogie man is currently stealing my attention.

Land sakes, the Bible offers scads of advice about how and where to exercise the mind, and I have yet to find one that suggests dwelling endlessly on something outside my control. What I do find are tons of assurances that if I lean into the Lord and detach from the problem, blessings will ensue.

Final caveat: I’m not suggesting ignoring problems or failing to take sensible steps to resolve issues. That approach would take us back to the running away strategy which we’ve already dismissed as unwise. Rather, in the absence of alternatives to make things right, as it were, sometimes the wisest action is no action. Waiting on the Lord. Being ready at all times to mend fences wherever possible, but allowing the Lord time to settle dust and ruffled feathers.

My personal experience with running ahead of God in trying to bring about the solution I think I want has consistently been disaster. At this point in my life, enough already!

I’ll give the final word to this succinct but packed poem. The internet can’t make up its mind who wrote this little gem, so I’ll just place it here anonymously but with deep gratitude for the unnamed author who so perfectly “nailed” the concept of letting go and letting God:

As children bring their broken toys, 
With tears, for us to mend,
I brought my broken dreams to God,  

Because He was my Friend.

But then, instead of leaving Him
In peace, to work alone;
I hung around and tried to help
With ways that were my own.

At last I snatched them back and cried,
“How can You be so slow?”
“My child,” He said, “what could I do?
You never did let go!"