Flat-Out Tired… March 13, 2013

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flat tireFinishing my morning writing session yesterday, having spoken to you about how problems are really doorways to new ideas, I came outside to discover that I had a flat tire on my van.

Candidly, a flat tire might just be the symbol for all representations of inconvenience. Some people would just reach in, grab their spare and change it. I admire those folks–the way I appreciate individuals who win the Decathlon in the Olympics.

It is not me. I am not lazy but my inability combined with my unwillingness can certainly resemble lethargy. But because I had just written to you about doorways, I realized that all this event really did was create a new scenario to some things which absolutely needed to be accomplished anyway.

I had known for two weeks that I should purchase new tires for the back of the van. I was putting it off as long as possible–in order to fulfill my ongoing reputation for a bit of procrastination. There was no more need to procrastinate.

So instead of becoming frustrated, I realized that my morning had changed. Fortunately for me, right next door to our lodging was a car repair shop. Unfortunately, the young manager who walked over to see if he could assist informed me that his business did not handle tires. But in the process of discovering this, he asked me to locate the jack, so I searched through the van, and lo and behold, in moving a few things around, came upon a twenty-dollar bill. Even in the midst of my harried pursuit, I felt a great burst of appreciation.

I tucked it in my pocket, not thinking any more about it, and when it became obvious that this fine gentleman was not going to be able to help me, I reached into my wallet and gave him five dollars for his time. He refused it but I insisted–and he took it and strolled away.

Talking with Jan, we decided it was a good idea to get our tire fixed and incorporate our other duties around the perimeter of the process. So she went back next door to see if that non-tire-repair shop could simply air up our tire, in order for us to drive someplace to get it fixed. Because we had been generous with the young man with the five dollars. two of his employees came over, got the van lifted up with their equipment, took off the old tire and put on our spare. We were grateful.

So I reached into my pocket and pulled out my magic twenty and gave it to them. We went down the road, got two new tires on the van which we needed anyway, and the whole excursion only cost five dollars and a bit of changing of our agenda.

I learned something–I shall call it the “Here Philosophy.”

Life comes along and says, “Here it is.” Honestly, most of us are stalled with just the vision of the situation set before us. If we would just understand that “here it will not change the situation, no matter how much we discuss it or avoid it, we could move to Step 2, which is:

“Here we are.” The essence of this maneuver is to understand that there’s nothing wrong with being dismayed, as long as in the midst of your lamentation, you are gathering your resources to resolve the dilemma. After we survive “Here it is” and we allow ourselves to discover “Here we are,” God arrives.

Here I am,” He says.

That’s right. If I had NOT been in the midst of trying to solve the problem of the flat tire, I would never have moved things around in the van and found the twenty-dollar blessing God had waiting for me. You see what I mean? “Here it is” leads to “Here we are” which leads God to be able to say, “Here I am.”

And once God is linked up with your efforts, you can smile, step out and say, “Here we go.” We are on an adventure instead of a death walk.

And it was. It was NOT a problem–it was a doorway. And once I came through the doorway, I enacted the “Here philosophy:”

  • Here it is: stop fighting it.
  • Here we are: start bringing it.
  • Here I am: thank you, God, for uncovering that twenty-dollar bill.
  • Here we go: we got the tires we needed in the first place.

And, by the way, we were very successful in achieving most of the other projects along the path.

Sometimes life is flat and our tires imitate. When it happens, put into practice the “Here philosophy” and understand that you will never get God to show up–until He’s convinced that you showed up.

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