We know that God works in all things for the good of those who love Him (Romans 8:28), but… toilet bowl cleaners? Really?

I know of two major brands of disposable, wand-style toilet bowl cleaners that are currently on the market, and one of the two appears to be more popular than the other (at least in the area where we live). I know this because we chose to purchase and use the brand that we would later determine to be the far less popular of the two. Each time that we needed to replenish our supply of the disposable cleaners, we would experience greater difficulty than the time before in doing so.

Store after store and shopping trip after shopping trip, we would search in vain for the replacement cleaners that fit the wands that we were using. Discovering that the stores where we had previously purchased them no longer carried them, our search area necessarily continued increasing, as did the time and energy that we were expending. The cleaners, intended  to be helpful, became a frustration.

Then a day arrived when I decided to simplify our search by calling stores in advance. But call after call ended with the same negative response. On that morning, with regard to the cleaners, I reached the end of my proverbial rope.

Then a solution, one that should have been obvious earlier, suddenly became apparent. I suggested to my husband that we simply replace our current wands with those of the more available brand. He agreed, not only to the idea, but also to do so that day while running errands.

Arriving home later that afternoon, my husband handed me a new wand of the “other” brand, and I gave it a test run. Our problem appeared to be over. In actuality, though, it was not. While my husband and I had agreed to purchase the new wand and cleaners, we had not yet discussed what we would do with the old wands.

As I began gathering the old wands from the various bathrooms for disposal, my husband stopped me. His line of thinking was to keep both the old wands and the new ones, so that we could purchase whichever refills were available when they were needed. His idea of a better system was to “cover all of the bases.” I, on the other hand, wanted nothing to do with a dual system that retained the original, frustrating wands. I wanted the simplification of one available brand.

Our three-story home contains at least one bathroom on each level. Complicating the cleaning issue is the fact that the lowest level is accessible only by an exterior entrance. Carrying a toilet bowl cleaner in and out, as well as up and down, though do-able when necessary, was not my idea of simple. I wanted one new wand in each bathroom for easy access.

Having arrived at a stalemate of opinions, things remained as they were, until one morning when my husband was heading out of the house for an early morning meeting and more errand running. I decided to broach the subject of the cleaners, beginning with the words, “I know this is a trivial matter, but…” Trivial it was, but the “but” part of the statement still mattered to both of us, and we maintained our opposing positions.

When my husband left the house a few minutes later, I was upset, not about toilet bowl cleaners, but about how such minor issues can adversely affect relationships, even minutely. My husband had the same thought upon leaving the house that morning and proceeded to end the matter by purchasing more of the new wand.

But that morning, as my husband pulled out of the driveway, my thoughts focused on relationships. Within seconds, I suddenly realized a greater truth. Still standing at the door, I heard myself exclaim, “Oh, God! All You have ever wanted is a relationship with us, and we keep letting trivial matters come between us!” (“Trivial” is used relative to the importance of our current and eternal relationships with God, with no intention of minimizing the seriousness of any life situation.) The truth struck not only my mind, but my heart as well, and I felt the pain that the truth delivered.

Since before man’s existence, God’s desire has been to establish eternal fellowship with each and every one of the beloved individuals of His Creation. We (mankind), not God, created the rift in our relationship with Him. We were the ones who punctuated (and still punctuate) life apart from God with strife and pain that God never intended. We created (and still create) our own frustration. No matter how hard we tried (and still try:  work at, put forth effort, finagle), we couldn’t (and still can’t) right the wrongs that we have done against God, enabling us to return to intimate fellowship with Him. Our efforts were (are) fruitless.

Such was (is) life under “The Law”–—the legalistic system of trying to “live right,” to follow the “rules” (the commandments of God and men), to earn the right to live with God and to give people what they “deserve.” God knew all along that we couldn’t live “perfectly,” but He gave (gives) us the time that we needed (need) to discover for ourselves the futility of trying to do so.

Then, at just the right time, God provided an end to our frustration. He gave us a new and better “system,” one based not upon our effort, but upon His provision. God handed us a way to have simple, yet dependable, access to Him for all time. He offered us grace through faith in His Son, Jesus Christ.

The question became, “Would we each choose to take advantage of God’s provision in Jesus Christ; and, if so, to what degree would we depend upon Him?”

Similar to my determining to separate myself completely from the cleaning wands that were more nuisance than benefit, each of us must choose to abandon our misguided thinking and efforts, choosing instead to have faith in God. Turning to God only in “emergencies” equates to keeping one new wand in a cabinet for use only when we believe that we have no choice but to use it.

Our confessions of faith in Jesus Christ are the turning points in our lives when we admit that we can’t get the job of “living right” done on our own. But God didn’t send Jesus just to “cover the bases” from time to time. The perfection of Jesus Christ covers every need, every time.

On the day when my husband and I had once again disagreed about the cleaners, we both chose separately to set aside the annoyance of our disagreement, strengthening our relationship by giving it top priority.

God has chosen similarly (though to a far greater degree) to give top priority to our relationships with Him by covering our sins with the blood of His Son. God refuses to allow our sins (once confessed in Jesus) ever to separate us from Him again.

What God has done is enough. His perfect love has set the standard, loving all who are imperfect. He invites us into fellowship with Him, thereby enabling us to do the same, by His Spirit who comes to dwell within us.

And that is not a challenge. That is a bona fide miracle. If you don’t think so, just keep trying to love the world-–-the whole world––without Him. That is true frustration.

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“Love one another. As I have loved you, so you must love one another.”  (John 13:34)

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THOUGHTS ON “THE LESSON OF THE CLEANERS”

Sue Ceravolo on March 4, 2013 at 8:57 am said: “My relationship defects (God and man) become so magnified in “the small stuff”. Most always because I want it my way.”

Sharon Morris on March 2, 2013 at 1:23 pm said:  “Excellent article!”

Not a one of us “gets it right” all of the time, do we? We all err, and we all fall short. That is a fact of life. But sometimes we forget our limitations and God’s limitlessness. When things go “wrong” (by our definition) and we choose to play the blame game, we can pass judgment on God and ourselves.

For a few years, I had opportunity to assist local families, who were purchasing Habitat for Humanity (HFH) homes, to acquire the basic furnishings that they needed for their homes (a service that is not part of the HFH program). My role became that of intermediary, matching families’ needs with available donations.

Family after family, I witnessed God’s faithfulness in His provision to meet or exceed each and every need. Time after time, every “T” on the checklist of the family’s needs would be crossed and every “i” dotted, as exactly the right items arrived without duplication.  I, among others, amazed by what God had done in the past, came to expect (trust) God to simply fulfill “our” plan for each new family.

Then came the test. Who did I really trust, and in whose plan was I really operating?

The test centered around the bedroom decor of one young girl, who dreamed of a room containing blues, purples and horses. The request from her heart seemed simple enough. But as time passed, not a single appropriate item containing blue, purple or horses arrived. As the family’s move-in day approached, my faith in God’s provision began wavering, and I began outlining possible plans in my head regarding what I could “do” to “remedy” the situation. The plan that unfolded, however, was definitely not mine.

One day, an hour from home, I suddenly remembered that I needed to make a quick purchase before going home. So my husband pulled into the parking lot of a Walmart store that was unfamiliar to us, and I darted inside the store. As I hurried down an aisle toward my destination, a bolt of fabric sitting atop a pile of other fabrics caught my eye. Printed on the fabric were large stars and galloping horses on a bold background that contained blue and purple.

The fabric was not one that I would have immediately considered for a young girl, but it fit the bill. Hesitating for only a split second, I snatched up the bolt, thinking that “my” problem was solved. But my delight was diminished when I realized that there was only enough fabric on the bolt to make simple window treatments and, possibly, a pillow sham. We would still need a coordinating bed cover. But having a multitude of colors in the fabric from which to choose, the “problem” seemed to be over. I was elated. Surely we would receive a bed covering of one matching color or another.

But we didn’t. In the short time that remained before move-in day, which was the week before Christmas, the only bedspread that arrived was a pink floral, a decidedly “no match.” To make matters worse, in the busyness of the Christmas season, I put off sewing the window treatments and pillow sham until the night before they were needed. That evening, as I began to sew, my sewing machine jammed and would not be righted. I couldn’t sew a thing.

Immediately, I began berating myself, second-guessing my apparently poor decisions. Why had I not been more proactive in obtaining the simple items that the girl had requested? Why had I not at least done the sewing earlier, so that I would have something to offer the girl? I was responsible (as I saw it) for a little girl’s disappointment that she did not yet know existed. But I knew it, and I felt horrible.

The following day, the girl’s mother was all smiles as she and I first arranged her other daughter’s room. We made the bed, hung curtains and added a few special touches, all in the theme and color that had been both requested and donated. God had provided, just as I had seen Him do so many times previously.

Why, then, was I empty-handed regarding the other girl’s dream? Why had God not shown up?

I showed the horse fabric to the girl’s mother and confessed my not having anything to offer her daughter, except for the pink floral spread. As we smoothed the spread over the bed, the girl’s mother tried to console me. But as I looked at the empty windows, my heart sank even more. I felt only guilt and shame. I could not undo the “mess” that I had made. We finished the room, working with the little that we had, and then we headed to the kitchen to unpack boxes.

Shortly thereafter, an aunt and uncle of the family arrived to place Christmas presents under the tree that stood in the living room. While they were there, the girl’s mother gave the aunt and uncle a quick tour of the home, and then they departed, leaving us to finish unpacking.

As we worked, the girl’s mother (still bubbling with the excitement of being a first-time homeowner) told me that the aunt had been surprised to see the pink floral bedspread. Thinking that the girl needed a bed covering, the aunt had purchased one for the girl for Christmas, and it was now sitting under the tree. The aunt was concerned that her gift would be neither needed nor wanted. But the girl’s mother reassured the aunt to the contrary, explaining that the pink floral spread was only temporary.

Now that the aunt was gone, the girl’s mother (and I) couldn’t wait to peek in the package containing the bed covering. A twinge of hope arose in me that maybe––just maybe-–-my negligence could still be redeemed in some small way. If we were “lucky,” the new bedding would coordinate with the horse fabric.

But those who think that they need luck, don’t know God.

Not yet surrendered to that truth, I held my breath as the girl’s mother carefully pulled back the tape and unfolded the paper on one end of the package. Then, together, we bent over to peer inside the wrapping. Staring back at us were the eyes of galloping horses on a background of blue and purple. The comforter was an exact match to the fabric that I had purchased! Our jaws dropped in astonishment as we looked at the gift and then at each other. Unable to contain our excitement, we jumped up and down with joy.

Neither the girl nor her desire had ever been forgotten by God, and the fulfillment of her dream had never been up to me. I had done my part in God’s plan––no more and no less, exactly as He had intended, without me even being aware that I was doing so. The only real “problem” that had existed was my doubt of God, thinking that the outcome depended upon me alone.

While I would have been satisfied with (make that “proud of”) my sewing handiwork and a stranger’s donation, God had something much more meaningful to give to the girl through her aunt, who loved her. Nothing that either I nor any other stranger could have offered would have measured up to that. My role and my offering were secondary to the aunt’s, as they should have been. Yet God had gifted me with the opportunity to participate in helping to make the girl’s dream come true, giving me delight in doing so.

The true gift, as God had planned, would be revealed on Christmas morning, delivered in the way that God had always intended for it to be delivered:  in love. The gift, as all gifts should, would stand as a reminder of God’s eternal love for each individual, the love with which He wrapped the Gift of His Son on that first Christmas morning long ago, enabling each of us to receive His love that our hearts so desire.

God is truly the God of all comfort (2 Corinthians 1:3), letting us know that we are each individually important to and loved by Him. He provides us with far more than the necessities of life, delivering comforts in ways that far surpass our expectations. God is always present, always providing, always caring. He is just as concerned with and involved in the details of our lives as He is in the big picture.

My shortcomings (as I tend to view them) aren’t always what they seem to me to be. God can and does use me exactly as I am, fulfilling His Plan, His Way, in His Time.

And that gives me comfort, no matter what happens.

God is the ultimate Comforter.

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“And our hope for you is firm, because we know that just as you share in our sufferings, so also you share in our comfort.”  (2 Corinthians 1:7)

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THOUGHTS ON “THE LESSON OF THE COMFORTER”

Jerry on February 16, 2013 at 3:25 pm said:  “Very nice. I think we all “operate” as you described, and if we do our best, and then have faith in God, things turn out so well. Thanks for sharing.”

DeBorah on February 15, 2013 at 1:57 pm said:  “I’m soooo very glad Cathy Butler shared this with me…this is beautiful…I haven’t read a devotional that held my attention like this in a long time. It was a practical, down-to-earth lesson in the love of OUR FATHER for HIS children! Thank you and God bless.”