Lent Reflection #14: Gratitude
Lent, it seems to me, should be a reflection leading to repentance and renewal. Instead of generic repentance, weneed specific repentance. Name sins and failures. I'm not sure we cn repent of generic sins, only ones we recognize and name.
I won't do that here for myself, but I will name one that I think we all would see in ourselves. Presumption that leads to ingratitude.
Over the last two days a friend and I took a mini-vacation to a nearby city. I rented a car (footnote below) and therefore did the driving, which was fine. I can take or leave driving. I drove about 500 miles. My speeds ranged from 40 (in torrential rain) to 80 (flat, dry surfaces, trying to pass trucks). I have often thought how someone like the Apostle Paul from the first century would have reacted to those kinds of speeds! We take them for granted; our bodies have acclimated to moving through space encased in bullets of glass and steel at much higher rates than 80.
At any moment we could have been killed. Yet we don't even think about that, and we don't even thank God for it. Driving on the Interstates of America has to be one of the most spiritually thoughtless, presumptuous acts we perform.
I repent of that this morning: God, forgive me for taking it for granted that I can speed down the road at an unheard of pace and forget that a fit of sneezing could land me and others in a grave. Yes, that's a bit brutal and dramatic, but having survived a crash on the Interstate, I know it's the truth.
Let us repent today of all forms of ingratitude; this is just one example.
Footnote: the car I rented was a brand new Mazda; it had only 1413 miles on it at the start. I hated it. The dern thing had a mind of its own. The brights come on when the car deems it necessary, and go off in oncoming traffic. I couldn't work the cruise because I don't have an engineering degree. The car locks either malfunctioned or I am too stupid to figure them out. The match had to be slammed so that it didn't signal that it was opened. The machine was one of those keyless vehicles (I don't get this--you still have to have the device in the car--wouldn't it make more sense for it to be in the ignition?). The radio was a mystery until we were on our way home. There was no interior lever for the hatch. I at least had no trouble with the heat and air. Sigh.
I won't do that here for myself, but I will name one that I think we all would see in ourselves. Presumption that leads to ingratitude.
Over the last two days a friend and I took a mini-vacation to a nearby city. I rented a car (footnote below) and therefore did the driving, which was fine. I can take or leave driving. I drove about 500 miles. My speeds ranged from 40 (in torrential rain) to 80 (flat, dry surfaces, trying to pass trucks). I have often thought how someone like the Apostle Paul from the first century would have reacted to those kinds of speeds! We take them for granted; our bodies have acclimated to moving through space encased in bullets of glass and steel at much higher rates than 80.
At any moment we could have been killed. Yet we don't even think about that, and we don't even thank God for it. Driving on the Interstates of America has to be one of the most spiritually thoughtless, presumptuous acts we perform.
I repent of that this morning: God, forgive me for taking it for granted that I can speed down the road at an unheard of pace and forget that a fit of sneezing could land me and others in a grave. Yes, that's a bit brutal and dramatic, but having survived a crash on the Interstate, I know it's the truth.
Let us repent today of all forms of ingratitude; this is just one example.
Footnote: the car I rented was a brand new Mazda; it had only 1413 miles on it at the start. I hated it. The dern thing had a mind of its own. The brights come on when the car deems it necessary, and go off in oncoming traffic. I couldn't work the cruise because I don't have an engineering degree. The car locks either malfunctioned or I am too stupid to figure them out. The match had to be slammed so that it didn't signal that it was opened. The machine was one of those keyless vehicles (I don't get this--you still have to have the device in the car--wouldn't it make more sense for it to be in the ignition?). The radio was a mystery until we were on our way home. There was no interior lever for the hatch. I at least had no trouble with the heat and air. Sigh.
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