I am the type of person that is more likely to write about a subject if there is a “lesson” or at least some nugget of wisdom that a person could walk away with. However, it is certainly not the case with this blog. So go ahead, sit back, prop your feet up, and read on. Oh, and feel free to laugh as this is 100% true!

It was late, getting close to midnight, and I was finally pulling off the highway into Grove City, PA. My sister was graduating from college the following day and my family had arrived earlier. I had to finish working at my clinical rotation before embarking on the 7-hour journey and therefore was left to drive alone. I was exhausted and the drive through Ohio was unbelievably boring. I wasted time by flipping through radio stations, eating the snacks I had packed, and drinking plenty of water- don’t they say that water helps keep your brain alert? As I pulled off of the highway I called my parents to get directions to my great Aunt and Uncle’s house as I had never been there before. I began to snake through town on my search for E. Washington Street, where they apparently lived.

However, I should mention that about an hour before I had even reached my exit, I began to feel the effects of all the water I had drank. My bladder was feeling uncomfortably full but I pressed on, realizing how late it was and how close I was getting to my destination. But as I was making my way through town, I began to squirm a little more in my seat with futile attempts to focus on the road or the weather, anything other than the fact that I was in desperate need of a bathroom. Unfortunately, driving through a small town at midnight leaves you with zero options on public bathrooms and I began to curse myself for not stopping at the last rest stop.

I turned onto a road and was finally at the point in my directions where I was looking for my next and final street, E. Washington. I slowed down and squinted through my window, trying to get a glimpse of the street signs amidst the blackness around me. Sweat started to trickle down my temple, not due to the warm temperature, but due to the fact that I wasn’t sure I was going to make it before my bladder exploded. I was positive that I was going to wet my pants and tried to think back to the last time that had happened, but the memory escaped me. I slowly crept along the street when suddenly an overwhelmingly surge of relief swept over me. Low and behold, in front of me the sign read E. Washington. I quickly turned onto the street and peered at the house numbers, certain I was almost upon my destination and that a bathroom and relief were near. I passed a side street on my left and glanced up only to be overcome with a near panic attack. I had not turn onto E. Washington, but rather W. Washington. Who knows how much further that street was! In my panic, the wheels inside my head were spinning, formulating a plan. Before I had time to even process the logistics of the plan, I was acting out on it. I pulled my car over to the side of the road and left it running while I jumped out. It was dark with minimal street lamps lighting the neighborhood and not a single light was on in any of the houses. I spotted a large bush on the corner in between the sidewalk and the street. Quickly glancing around me and confident that no one was even awake on this street, I ducked behind the bush and settled into a comfortable squat with my pants around my knees. Relief washed over me in mere seconds as my bladder began to relax. Mid-stream and just as I was letting out a sigh of relief, a car on the side of the road flipped it’s headlight on, with its beams pointed directly at me. I was suddenly in the spotlight, urinating behind a bush in an unfamiliar town at midnight. My mind began to race again only to come to the conclusion that I was going to finish…I had been waiting over an hour for this moment and I wasn’t going to be cut short, with or without an audience. And honestly, what else was I going to do at this point? When the bottom of the barrel was drained (as a former nursing home patient used to tell me), I grabbed the top of my pants and in one swift maneuver, I jumped up as I yanked my pants up and sprinted to my car that was thankfully still running. I slammed the car door and sped off as though I had just robbed a bank, spinning around the corner onto the main road again in pursuit of my real destination of E. Washington.

My cheeks were hot as the redness of embarrassment crept up my neck. And when E. Washington appeared two streets down, I felt a wave of horror, humiliation, frustration, and humor all mixed together wash over me. I pulled up to the house and sprinted up the porch steps to my parents who were patiently waiting for me. I could hardly contain myself as the story of my late-night journey poured out in between the fits of laughter. And to this day, this story has lived on in infamy with my family, with threats to be told on my wedding day. And yet I just laugh.

Spork. Foon. What ridiculous words and yet an even more ridiculous utensil. For all of you out there that have no idea what I am talking about, let me explain. According to Wikipedia, a spork is a “hybrid form of cutlery taking the form of a spoon-like shallow scoop with the addition of the tines of a fork (usually three or four)…Sporks are occasionally known as foons…The word spork is a portmanteau combining the words spoon and fork.” Now, I ask you, have you ever tried to use a spork?

Not long ago I was at the school where I work part-time. Quite often, they provide breakfast for the staff on Fridays in the lounge and this happened to be one of those times. That day, they offered a nice spread of various fruit juices, donuts, and mammoth muffins. I’m not a big donut fan so I chose one of the large muffins- you know, the kind that should be shared with another person or split and eaten on two separate occasions, but I wanted nothing to do with that and would therefore eat the entire thing. So I carefully chose my preferred flavor, set it on my plate and grabbed a napkin as I headed towards the door on my way back to my office to begin my day with paperwork. Just as I reached the door to the lounge however, I remembered that I needed to grab a fork so that I could eat my large muffin while typing my progress notes. While perusing the table I noticed that, much to my dismay, my only option was to use the prepackaged little plastic spork. I snatched it up and walked back to my office thinking, “how bad can this spork be?” It was only moments later that I realized how flawed my thinking was.

Sitting down at the desk, I logged onto the computer and while I waited for my personal settings to load, I opened the package of the spork and started to dig into the muffin. Yet instead of breaking off a nice bite, the spork began to smash the muffin down flat before a little chunk fell off to the side of the plate, spraying little crumbs everywhere. Then when trying to scoop the piece up, the crumbs fell through the tines of the spork, resulting in a very frustrating experience. How much paperwork do you think I got done while trying to eat my muffin? Yeah…you’re probably right…just about none. It took way too much concentration and effort to eat that muffin with a spork- or do you prefer foon?

Later on, I thought about what the purpose of a spork or foon was. I suppose someone thought they were a genius coming up with a utensil that served two purposes in one. The spork actually dates back to the late 1800s. Similar utensils seem to include the knork, the spife, the splayd (for those curious…it’s a portmanteau of ‘spoon’ and ‘blade’- lucky for you, it’s a spoon, fork, and knife all rolled into one!), and forkchops. Ok, Ok, I get the idea- one utensil instead of 2 or 3. But how well does that spork actually work??? I’m in total agreement with Wikipedia when it goes on to say, “The two functions of fork and spoon are inherently opposed to each other in a spork, such that the slotted tines allow thin liquids to leak out of the bowl, while the fat triangular tines have poor solid-food penetration and retention of fresh salad vegetables and natural cooked meats such as steak. The spork is better suited for thick, chunky, and heavily-processed foods which require minimal cutting or preparation to ingest.” The spork, I learned, is not a “one-size-fits-all” utensil. While it may work for Jell-O, let’s say, or Dinty Moore Beef Stew, it doesn’t work well for soup, porkchops, or muffins. Some instances it works, and others, well….not so much.

Utensils serve a specific purpose. When you start to combine utensils to serve two purposes in one, the result is a utensil with a mediocre function. Rather than trying to use a foon or splayd to cut a pizza, we have pizza cutters. In the same way, we are provided with individual forks, spoons, and knives- along with chopsticks, straws, ladles, cheese slicers, can openers, garlic presses, ice cream scoops, etc. Every single one of these utensils serves a specific purpose, and serves that purpose well.

When it comes to life, I think too many of us try to be sporks, including myself. I find myself saying “yes” to countless requests, simply because I was asked and I don’t want to say “no”. Before long, I am running from one thing to the next, barely able to catch my breath. Yet I take on all of these responsibilities for the church and for God…I reason to myself. I try to be and to do so many things that I end up doing a mediocre job with everything. God did not design us to be sporks. God instead created us to be individual forks, spoons, and knives, as well as every other kitchen gadget and gizmo that you can imagine. We are fashioned by God with specific skills and talents that He wants us to use to the best of our ability. Sure, I could agree to play the piano for Lighthouse worship- but is that my talent? Certainly not. I could also consent to sketch artwork for the website, but I’m guessing that stick figures are probably not what you all had in mind. You see, playing the piano and sketching are not the talents that God has blessed me with and by trying to do and be so many things for God without recognizing my talents, I’ll end up worn out and doing an average, fair, or downright poor job at all tasks. God desires each of us to do our best at whatever we do, even if it means saying “no” once in a while. It is my hope, my desire, and my prayer that each one of us searches deep within to discover who God created us to be and what gifts, skills, and talents that we are blessed with. Let’s not be “catch-all” devices with average functions. I certainly don’t want to be that spork that is collecting dust in the back of the drawer…do you?

Have you ever wished for one of the worst things possible to happen? I remember when I was in graduate school, walking through an icy parking lot with my mom and asking her, “Do you think that if I slipped on the ice and split my head open that I wouldn’t have to take my clinical biomechanics test tomorrow?” Yes, I know it sounds absolutely ridiculous now, but I would have wished for anything to happen just to get out of taking any of my tests. I also have prayed countless times to wake up sick- with a cold, the flu, a migraine- it didn’t really matter to me what the ailment was, as long as I could escape whatever it was that was happening the following day.

Maybe you haven’t been in my shoes where you prayed for sickness or to fall on the ice, but maybe you have wished for a snow day from school or for a meeting to be cancelled because you weren’t as prepared as you should have been. Maybe you have called in sick from work when you were actually feeling fine, or made up an excuse as to why you couldn’t hang out with someone, or avoided answering your cell phone when you saw who it was that was calling.

When it comes down to it, all of these thoughts or actions lead to escape. We want to escape those situations that put us in awkward positions, or that test us as individuals as to who we are and what we know. We want to escape those grueling days at work or school, to escape “small talk” with those who may not be our closest friends, and escape responsibilities and expectations.

Not too long ago, I was lying in bed and thinking about all of the things I needed to do the next day at work. I had ten kids on my schedule that I had to treat for an hour each, evaluations that I had to finish, daily progress notes that needed to be typed, Prior Authorizations that were due, and to top it off, I was supposed to be serial casting my 7am patient- something I have never done completely on my own. I remember thinking about all of these tasks and becoming completely overwhelmed to the point where I began to turn my prayer into, “God, please help me to be sick tomorrow.” At that point I reached over, flipped off the light, and buried myself in the covers, confident that I would wake up with a stomach ache or a stuffed up nose. However, before I drifted off to sleep, my thoughts drifted to the story of Jonah and how he was constantly trying to flee what was expected of him and ultimately, to flee God. I began to ask myself if that what I was trying to do. Was I trying to flee God and take the easy way out?”

Maybe obedience to God is not the central lesson of the book of Jonah as Mark Buchanan writes in the book, “Your God is Too Safe.” Maybe it is actually what dwells in Jonah’s heart. Buchanan writes about Jonah, “He’ll do whatever he must—obey, disobey, go to Nineveh, flee to Tarshish—to get God off his back. He’ll find the thing that God disrupts the least and do that….The last thing Jonah wants is the too soft, too hard God to get too close” (pg. 50). (I think Jonah would have gladly slipped on the ice to avoid taking a test.) How about you- are you worried that God will get too close to you? Perhaps you’re concerned that He will ask you to do what you least want to do…I know I am!

In high school I felt as though God was calling me to be a physical therapist and yet graduate school was the toughest three years of my life. I wanted to escape school and take the path of least resistance sooo badly, especially after finding out that I failed test after test. I wanted to escape the pressures of school, the constant and endless studying, and ultimately what God was asking me to do. It was foolish for me to wish for such awful things such as falling on the ice or to wake up sick. I wasn’t concerned at that time about what God wanted. I wanted to do things my way…and that did not involve placing myself in difficult situations. However, in those three years, God made it evident that He wasn’t going to let go of me and He wasn’t going to let me take the easy way out. I was not going to escape His grasp. Over time, I drew nearer to God as I learned to rely on Him, obey Him, and trust Him. Then, I wanted to get closer to God and for Him to get closer to me.

What is God calling you to do? Maybe he wants you to step out on a limb and make that proposal at your work meeting, talk to that annoying girl in your class, meet your friend for coffee when you’re tired and would rather stay home, or to go to work with a smile on your face do your best for Him. Whatever it is, don’t try to flee from God- from the story of Jonah, we know that doesn’t work anyway. It’s time to give up your own concerns and desires and to avoid the path of least resistance…but be prepared to find a God that is deeply concerned about you and that wants to get close to you. Are you ready to get close to Him?

On vacation last year, I spent a week at a resort along the coast of Oregon in a relatively small town called Newport. It was a solo trip meant for the purpose of becoming physically, emotionally, and most importantly- spiritually refreshed. Prior to my trip I was completely bogged down from the pressures of work and too many commitments, and I was drained. My relationship with God was suffering and I knew that I needed to get away from my routine, to explore areas of God’s creation, and most importantly- to have a lot of “me and God” time so that I could become refreshed and renewed spiritually.

Once arriving in Oregon, I began to plan out my week, filling it up with plans to drive up and down the coast, hikes in the national forests, and visits to all of the local “touristy” spots. Each day I found myself to be completely exhausted once arriving back at the resort after packing that day full of activities. On the fifth day however, I had such a relaxing day. I didn’t drive all over the state of Oregon, but stayed right in Newport- meandering the streets of Historic Nye Beach and looking in all the little shops while sipping my chai latte, squeezing my way around the crowds of people at the Oregon Coast Aquarium, browsing in the little shops along Newport’s Historic Bayfront, and having a nice dinner at the Embarcadero restaurant while looking out over the port docks. I felt a certain peace throughout the day. I really had no agenda and therefore had no reason to constantly be checking my watch to make sure I accomplished every task that was on my list for that day. It was then that I began to notice that despite being on vacation to relax and recover from my packed weekly routine, I was having a hard time relaxing and seemed to push myself to always be on the go. The devil was using sly tactics such as, “You only have a week here, and you better make good use of it and see all that you can see.” The devil was saying things like this to me in order to limit my time with God. However, God was using this trip to teach me to more effectively “stop and smell the roses.”

There are times when I think I am stopping to smell the roses and yet I walk away having no recollection of the scent. It’s like someone asking you, “How are you doing?” while they continue to walk past. You could be having one of the worst days of your life and no one would ever know because they didn’t wait for your answer. How would it be if God gave us that kind of time? You go to Him in prayer and after the first sentence or two as you begin to pour your heart out, God yawns and turns away. Wow…how would you feel? I know I would feel rejected, unloved, and unimportant. Maybe God feels that way towards us at times. God is pouring His heart out to us through His creation, through the opportunities and experiences He provides, through His faithfulness and love. However, as He is pouring out His heart to us we become bored and yawn at yet another sunset, another spring rain, another squirrel scampering off, and another child being born. Does God feel rejected and unloved when we respond in this way? May we never grow weary of His magnificent creation, never weary of His faithfulness, and never weary of His love. Next time, let’s stop to smell the roses- and I don’t mean to just smell them as you continue on your way, but to stop and linger- take in the scent, the color, the texture, and listen to what God may be whispering in your ear.

Do you ever wonder why your car runs out of gas at the most inopportune time? Or why it costs more to dry a load of laundry than is does to do the wash? I guess it boils down to the whole “why do we drive on parkways and park on driveways” nonsense. I could banter back and forth with someone for hours asking “why” questions, but where would that lead us?

However, “why” is a word I have found myself using a lot lately. “Why am I at my current job?” “Why did that have to happen to my family?” “Why didn’t that happen? The cards seems to line up perfectly.” And yet I realized that the underlying question to all of my questions was, “Why God?”. You see, I found myself questioning God.

Have you ever babysat for a little kid who loves to talk and ask questions? As a pediatric physical therapist, I have the opportunity to experience some pretty interesting conversations with kids of all ages. There are times I am constantly laughing, while other times I am frustrated or heartbroken. And then there are those amusing times when a child suddenly thinks he/she is in charge. They come marching back to the gym and start rattling off a list of activities or exercises that they are going to do that day. It is then that I proceed to tell them that I have a different plan and that they will have to wait and see what it is. The “why” questions then begin to fly out of their mouths. And I stand there with a smile on my face, explaining to them as simply as possible what the next immediate step or exercise is. Their little immature minds would not begin to understand that the exercise in question would help strengthen their quadriceps eccentrically in order to facilitate descent when negotiating the stairs.

In the same way, I think God stands there quietly, smiling at us as He reveals one step at a time in the plan he has for us. We can barrage Him with “why” questions like I have been doing, or we can simply follow the next step and “complete the exercise”. God knows our finite minds cannot handle the explanations to the “why” questions and needs us to just trust Him.

In my job, I have developed great relationships with the kids I treat. And they slowly begin to trust me. I hope that one day they realize that the silly little exercises they didn’t want to do helped them get to where they are today. And as for me? Let’s just say I’m learning to ask far fewer questions.

Kneeling at God’s throne above,
My tears are streaming down with love
Asking God “what have I done?”
Pleading mercy from the Son

Why do I fall, O God on high?
Do you hear my desperate cry?
Patiently I wait for You,
Ready, willing, make me new

Time and time I fall down,
Heavy shadows on the ground
Stumbling as I try to stand,
Reaching up for Christ’s hand

Why do I fall, O God on high?
Do you hear my desperate cry?
Patiently I wait for You,
Ready, willing, make me new

Grasping tightly I stand up,
Quenching thirst from the cup
Loving Father be my guide,
Strike and crush all my pride

Why do I fall, O God on high?
Do you hear my desperate cry?
Patiently I wait for You,
Ready, willing, make me new

Holy Spirit, Faithful One,
Quickly to you I will run
As storms arise all around,
In your arms may I be found

Why do I fall, O God on high?
Do you hear my desperate cry?
Patiently I wait for You,
Ready, willing, make me new
Ready, willing, make me new