I was standing on the corner of the street sucking in smog and wondering how Los Angeles had once again magically turned my $100 worth of registration fees into a $500 ordeal of inspection fixes.
I love LA:
Except when it comes to anything vehicle related. That’s when its dark side truly emerges and snarls in my face.
My thoughts tumbled around like a dryer full of old familiar thoughts. I’ve been trying to follow advice and get my finances back in order- to make that a priority. Yet it seems nothing I do makes a difference.
If I don’t make it a priority, I’m strapped. If I do make it a priority, and finally get a little bit ahead, something like this comes out of nowhere and snatches up that little glimpse of progress that was peaking through. It’s becoming clear that no human effort is going to get me out of this.
Yet as I’m standing there sending imaginary hate-notes to the DMV, the devil, and Darkwing Duck (who is secretly Scrooge and has plenty of money to help me out if he wanted) a scene flashed into my memory from the Hunger Games book I’ve been listening to on Hoopla (great library app if you didn’t know about it!)
If you’re not familiar with the story, Katniss Everdeen is one of the many kids who have been selected by an evil government to compete in an earth-like arena- to the death. Only one person can come out alive, and the whole thing is televised to remind the entire population of the government’s power over them.
I love Katniss’ character. She never sees herself as a hero, yet when a moment heats up she always impulsively acts out of justice and compassion.
Yet she’s hit a catch:
In the particular scene I was recalling, she was wandering through the forests of the arena looking for a water source. With parched lips and dry tongue, she was almost delirious from thirst and sure she was about to die.
This was at this moment she got angry.
She knew somewhere watching on camera was her “mentor” – or coach – for the Hunger Games. It would be expensive and difficult, but he did have the power to send her little gifts into the arena.
Surely, SURELY he saw that she was about to die! What could possibly be stopping him from sending her some water?! He was supposed to help keep her alive!
Then it suddenly hits her. If her mentor is not sending her water, and she knows that his goal is for her to live, there must be something about the situation he sees differently than her.
From his vantage point, he can see the entire arena. He has a wider perspective. So if he is withholding something as seemingly vital as a drink of water, the only explanation is that he sees her solution is close by; the water source is right around the corner.
Here’s the thing:
I’ve known God for a long time. By no means do I know everything about Him- I think we never will. But I do know this. He loves me, and my eternal poverty and quick death is not on His secret agenda.
Therefore, the only other explanation for the current pressure I feel is that He sees the big picture, and He knows breakthrough is right around the corner.
If not, He would surely drop what I need straight down on me. He is able to do that, and His word says He doesn’t withhold good gifts from His children (Psalm 84:11). So if He is withholding something that seems beneficial- vital even- it’s because He’s building in me the strength to take one more step- two more steps- just enough steps to get to that breakthrough.
Just a little further. Just outside this tree line. But never past my point of expiration.
So I have to ask myself:
Can I look my Father in the eyes and tell Him He’s forgotten about me? That He isn’t rich enough to help me out? That He’s been out to watch me fail all along?
So the only explanation is….it’s coming. The source is close.
Closer than failure.
Closer than death.