"At
this, Job got up and tore his robe and shaved his head.
Then
he fell to the ground in worship." Job 1:20
Job is like a super star of reactionary
worship to me. After all of the horrible things that happened in his life, he
worshipped. I mean, sure he tore his robe and shaved his head, but he didn’t
stop there. He didn’t curse God. He worshipped.
Wow.
Do I react in worship? Do you?
Most of the time I probably don’t. But
this week I’ve been thinking on this and so I’ve been trying to watch my
reactions. Living with a fourteen-year-old young man gives me plenty of
practice. I love Noah. He is a great kid.
However, scientifically Noah’s frontal lobe, like most young men his age, is
not fully developed. This brings me a bit of hope for his future when said lobe
will have kicked into high gear. For now, well, not so much.
Saturday he had a football game. In an
effort to allow him to learn more individual responsibility I do not prepare
everything for him. But I did quiz him.
Noah,
are you ready to go?
Yes.
Do
you have everything?
Yep.
Water
and Albuterol? Uniform?
Yeah,
yeah and yeah. My uniform is at school.
So I took him to his game and told him I’d
be there for the game later after my Zumba class. I was extremely excited about
the class since my main instructor would be back after a long time off due to a
broken foot. I drove 15 minutes to his school and then 20 minutes back to the
gym by our house. In the gym parking lot, the phone rang.
“Mom, I’m so sorry, but my football
pants are in my backpack in my room.”
I tore my clothes and desperately looked
for some scissors to shave my head.
Not exactly, but I reacted. I didn’t
yell, but my blood began to boil as I told Noah I’d bring the pants to him. On
the five minute drive back to our house, the Spirit of God reminded me of Job
and reactionary worship. Now He did this as I was mumble-cussing (that’s what the Iobsts call it) under my breath.
I stopped. And even though I still felt
anger I made the choice to worship.
God
you are great. I praise your name for Noah. You are in charge of football pants
and Zumba and You have this. Cause me to calm down.
As I pulled up to the house, I noticed
John was home. He was supposed to be in a meeting but came home early. So he
agreed to take the pants to the frontal-lobeless boy and I got to go to Zumba.
I challenge you to watch your reactions
today. We are human and we are going to tear clothes and rip out our hair when
things go wrong, be it huge circumstances like Job, or minor events like
missing football pants.
But then we have a choice. Join me and
let’s fall to the ground and worship our God who is worthy of all praise in
every circumstance.
Even with our teenage
boys who have no frontal lobes.
