Junk?

I've been buying and selling things online for about a decade now, and it's honestly been a fun adventure, even when things go wrong. Recently, I decided to buy an old used CD on Amazon for one cent plus shipping. Unfortunately, here's what came in the mail:

This particular CD did not come with a case, which I was warned about and could have lived with. However, the seller did not mail the CD with any type of cushiony protection other than a paper sleeve, a paper envelope, and a first-class stamp. So, it arrived broken. It only cost $4 total, and I got a very prompt apology and a refund, so I didn't raise a stink about it. (Unless, of course, you consider blogging about it to be raising a stink.) The seller insisted that it was the postal service's fault because of the machines they use to process the mail. I quickly replaced the item with another used CD that cost the same, had a CD case, and was mailed with proper bubble-wrapped protection.

Another memorable shipping incident occurred when I bought a used CD (a rare one at the time) on eBay. It also did not have a CD case, so the seller gave it a nice blank plastic one, wrapped it in toilet paper, put it in a small box, and shipped it. It arrived just fine, and I still have it and enjoy it. When I left (positive) feedback, I mentioned the type of packaging. Then the seller contacted me and got defensive; she explained that she packaged the CD in toilet paper because she wanted to protect it. Sure, I can definitely understand that. But since I paid about $5 for shipping, I don't think it would have killed her to have driven to the dollar store and picked up some bubble wrap for my item. Know what I mean? Same goes for the broken-CD seller.

Heh. That's better. Today, I discarded some old mailers that I had lying around (the puffy envelopes that you can mail CDs in), and I ripped them up so as to remove my name and information. Here I have shared a photo of a piece of such cushioning.

I was reminded of how a huge pile of old mailers came in handy for me once. The last time I moved, I ripped up the cushioned mailers into square pieces, taped them together, and made huge pieces of cushioning that I used to wrap some of my glass hanging items. These rednecky patchwork quilts of mailers worked beautifully to protect my stuff.

It's interesting how a little piece of junk can come in so handy.

"And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God, to those who are the called according to His purpose." (Romans 8:28)

I wonder if maybe God does the same thing. I wonder if maybe He metaphorically rips up little pieces here and there of metaphorical packaging in our lives, metaphorically tapes them together, and uses them to protect something important or otherwise use it in our lives later on.

For example, I've noticed that pretty much every job I've had has utilized almost every aspect of the job I've had before it. So, I'm curious if perhaps my future job is packaged in a nifty little analytical-thinking-acquired-in-college/common-sense-acquired-during-poverty/se-habla-español/heck-yes-I-can-meet-impossible-deadlines/children's-literature-training-acquired-with-correspondence-course/I-am-flowery-right-brained rednecky patchwork quilt for protection. That would be pretty cool.

When I was leading a small group, it was not uncommon for me to go through a heinously ridiculous emotional trial one week and then give somebody advice the next week because they happened to be going through something very similar to what I went through.

God definitely isn't a redneck, at least not per se. And I definitely don't mean any disrespect to God my Consuming Fire when I say that. But I think my therapist would remind me that we are all made in God's image. God is the most efficient Being in the universe. And He's a multitasker. There's no telling how many things He's working out in the background. He does zillions of things all at once in one little person's life. It's amazing how many metaphorical birds He likes to kill with one little metaphorical stone. I think I need to just sit back, relax, and let Him do His thang.

Speaking of junk, I did learn at a previous job that a "junk" is also a specific type of ship. And speaking of water vessels...

"Now when they had left the multitude, they took Him along in the boat as He was. And other little boats were also with Him. And a great windstorm arose, and the waves beat into the boat, so that it was already filling. But He was in the stern, asleep on a pillow. And they awoke Him and said to Him, 'Teacher, do You not care that we are perishing?' Then He arose and rebuked the wind, and said to the sea, 'Peace, be still!' And the wind ceased and there was a great calm. But He said to them, 'Why are you so fearful? How is it that you have no faith?' " (Mark 4:36-40)

I think it's very interesting that in this particular passage, Jesus isn't saying, "What do you mean, do I not care? Of course I care! I'm stuck here in this stormy boat with you!" I think it's also interesting that He isn't lecturing His disciples for interrupting what I'm guessing was a rare nap for Him during a very busy time in His life. He didn't tell them that they shouldn't ever cry out to Him. He just seemed to be marveling at why they were afraid and where their faith was.

Of course, I and just about every other follower of Christ have freaked out whenever a metaphorical storm suddenly starts tossing my metaphorical boat around in the metaphorical waters, even though Jesus is hanging out in the boat with me, so at peace with everything that He's catching some shuteye. I wonder if during my freakout sessions, God is sometimes like, "Um, I'm right here. Check it out: I live right here with you, I'm not going anywhere, and you're always going to be safe right here with Me. Don't forget that. Please chill out."

I think sometimes I treat God like that broken-CD seller -- the one who spent about 49 cents of my $3.99 shipping charge to toss a vulnerable little treasure into a flimsy little envelope that succumbed to the postal service's crushing mail-processing machines without any significant protection. "Oh, sure, Tirzah, I have an awesome future picked out just for you. Just wait for it. Here ya go-- oooh. That looks terrible. So sorry. It's the trials' fault -- they're only supposed to squeeze your future a little bit, not break it so badly that you won't be able to use it. I don't have any more futures in stock, so tell ya what. How about a refund?"

No, I don't think God is like that. He certainly isn't careless. On the contrary...

I think He's honestly a little bit more OCD than we give Him credit for. I definitely don't mean any disrespect to Him when I say that. I mean that He obsesses over details behind the scenes in ways that we may not even realize. I mean that He's probably so concerned with delivering my future to me that He keeps it in one of the closets (so that the cats won't get to it), He buys a huge supply of bubble wrap weeks in advance, He keeps a scale handy so that He will know how much to spend on shipping, He double-wraps it just in case, He Scotch-tapes it all perfectly, He picks out the perfect size box at The Container Store, He triple-checks the address, He makes sure nothing jiggles after He seals the box, He writes "FRAGILE" or "HANDLE WITH CARE" on the box, and then He drives to the air-conditioned post office and gently hands it to a clerk so that the package won't have to sit in the hot Texas sun. He wants to make sure that my future is delivered to me as perfectly as possible, and He wants to make sure that I'm happy with the transaction.

Or better yet, I think maybe He skips the shipping process altogether and hand-delivers my future Himself. Sometimes it's on a silver platter. Other times, it's gift-wrapped and hiding under the Christmas tree. Other times, He tells me to close my eyes and put out my hands. And still other times, He randomly walks into my house and says something like, "I originally planned to wait for your birthday, but I decided to go ahead and give this to you now. I hope you don't mind. I hope you like it. Surprise!"

That sounds cool. No problem, Father. Please feel free to give me my future however You like.