Last week I had “a day”. And we all know what that means: a day full of annoyances, conflict, disappointment, headaches and things breaking down—and mental breakdowns are not unheard of. It’s a day where all kinds of fun things happen. For example, you’re running late—and the snail-on-wheels in front of you doesn’t quite seem to grasp that. And of course something has to break—and it has to be the coffeemaker. Or (my personal favorite) your kids decide your life isn’t exciting enough and needs a little drama—and they’re happy to fix that for you. They’re so helpful that way. Or you forget your lunch so you roll through the drive-through only to discover you don’t have your wallet. But no worries—you know where it is. It’s sitting on the kitchen counter—right next to your lunch and the broken coffee maker. And to top it all off, you get to work (late) and pull up the document you’d worked on for a week and saved—or thought you saved…
All you can do at that point is to look up at the sky and inquire, “Is there a point here??”
Those Little Tests…
Well, yes, actually there is. It’s one of life’s little “pop quizzes”, the let’s-see-how-much-you’ve-learned-character test that God loves to spring on us from time to time. And while I’d much prefer the paper and pencil version of that particular test (it’s easier), God seems to prefer the more “show, don’t tell” type of test. That’s the test that seems to go something like this:
Did you flash a friendly smile at the guy in the snail-mobile or flash him something else?
Did you sit your kid down and patiently explain why it’s rude to use “that” language—or did you ground them until they’re 45? Not that there’s anything wrong with a good, long grounding—as long as you smile sweetly and keep the decree under ten decibels.
Did you thank the nice lady at the drive through and politely explain that the wallet is on the counter next to the lunch and the broken coffee maker? Or did you yell at the nice lady that they took too long with your order so you don’t want it now and then roar off, squealing your tires?
It Gets Personal
For me, as a teacher, my tests often involve high school students who never got the memo that there are just certain things guaranteed to spoil your classroom experience. Like pitching a full-fledged fit when the teacher has the gall to tell you that naptime is over and to get your head up off the desk or to turn around and stop talking to your neighbor or to stop throwing pencils or to stop texting in class—and forget telling me it’s your mother. True story. Last week. All in one 42-minute period. Did I pass the test? Probably not. Which is why later I was near tears when, out of the blue, my sister called.
So I told her what happened. What happened was I failed the test. I sort of let the little cherubs know I was not happy. Loudly. And I knew that it didn’t matter what they had done; I’d failed. Know what my sister said?
“‘To whom much is given, much is required.’”
Great. I would’ve preferred, “This too shall pass.”
The thing about these little pop quizzes is that God tailor-makes them all. For some it’s the patience test; for some it’s the “love the least of these” test; for some it’s the giving-money test; for some it’s the scrub-the-toilet-servant test; for some it’s the gossip test—et cetera. And guess what else? God doesn’t do social promotions. It doesn’t matter to God how long it takes us to pass our ICE’s (Individualized Character Tests) —God has all eternity.
So—first thing: if you fail the test, admit it. We all have to do that. Or we get to take the truthfulness test again. And once we pass that test and admit what we’ve done, then we get to start all over with the original character test that we wouldn’t admit we’d failed. Ever hear of “life-long learning”? Well, now you have.
Don’t get discouraged when you get a failing grade on your pop character quiz. It means God’s working.
Honestly? That was the one thing that made me feel better—the idea that the difficult circumstances were for a purpose. I know I learned something—for me it wasn’t about what I said because it wasn’t unreasonable. The point is how I said it. I learned that there’s a wrong way to say the right thing.
Will I have to take this little quiz again? I hope not—but, yes. Then I can move onto the next grade. More lessons, more quizzes. Do I like that? Not really. But then I consider the alternative: no more lessons—and no more transformation. And never again being entrusted with more. Of course, God is a gentleman; He won’t teach us anything without our permission. So what’s our answer?
If we want to be entrusted with the bigger things that lead to fulfilling our destinies, then there can only be one answer.
What was your pop quiz?