Years ago, when Phil and I along with our two kids camped with three of my four sibs and their kids, a thunderstorm came through the area during the first night. In the morning we assessed the damage. Our tent’s floor had at least an inch of water covering it; our clothes were saturated. Some tents held up better than ours, but most of us had wet clothes that needed to be dried. We all voted to go home until my brother, Kevin, said, “I want to scope out the situation one more time.” After Kevin’s assessment, rather than returning home, we all agreed to head to the laundromat. Before we headed there, we sat around the campfire drinking coffee and eating breakfast.
I noticed that my Bible was nearby. Lots of people run to it and/or to God when they’re in crisis mode – but I’m usually not one of them. I kind of like wallowing in self-pity – at least for awhile – before I want God or anyone else to help me with transitioning my crummy outlook into one that’s hopeful and positive. Looking back then, I’m surprised that I opened it. Not searching for any particular portion of Scripture that day, I randomly cracked the Bible open. Out of all the text that appeared on the two pages before me, my eyes immediately targeted the words, “No disaster will come near your tent.” I knew, then, that opening the Bible in the way that I did was not a random act! I began to wonder what our Lord was up to.
When I began to laugh – startling everyone with my sudden change of mood – I was asked what I was laughing about. I read the scripture out loud and said, “Looks like God has a different perception of what disaster is than I do!”
“No disaster will come near your tent.” (Psalm 91:10)
Had we based our response on how we perceived disaster that day, we would have all gone home – including Kevin – who had first considered that as an option. Looking back, it was our Almighty Creator and Lover of the human race who prompted my brother to scope out the situation one more time. Why? To give us the experience of what he meant by “No disaster shall come near your tent.” Our initial perception of disaster had been a deception. A big one as evidenced by the following. . .
Comfortably cramped in the laundromat waiting for our clothes to dry, a bond between us that already existed grew stronger. We were all in this disaster together. By the time we left there, the sun was out; the forecast for the rest of the weekend looked promising. That afternoon, we had a blast climbing the dunes and then cooling off in Lake Michigan; in the evening we enjoyed a fun conversation around the campfire. That sense of unity… that bond of love in the midst of our disaster was what moved us all to make the decision to set a date for our second annual family camping experience. We continued our annual family camping event for the next 10 years.
Out of that first time family camping event came a question and its response that I’ve shared now for many years with my family, friends and my clients: “What if my perception [of any issue that arises] is a deception? If so, Lord, gift me with repentance.”
Let me be clear! Having my tent fill with water that soaked my clothes is absolutely trivial in comparison to the deadly virus that continues to wreak havoc throughout the world. Having my tent fill with water that soaked my clothes is absolutely trivial in comparison to racism that continues to wreak havoc among People of Color in this country. Having my tent fill with water that soaked my clothes is absolutely trivial in comparison to myriads of events that leave in their wakes crushed, heart-broken people. In circumstances like these, I find it extremely difficult to trust God’s promise that no disaster will come near your tent especially when I or those I know personally are experiencing that disaster did not stop near our tents – it entered them.
Yet, the principle remains the same: God’s perception of what disaster is may be quite different than our own.
I’m not suggesting that any of us minimize (or catastrophize) the reality of disasters that enter our lives that are often associated with physical, emotional, mental, spiritual and/or sexual pain. I know that God doesn’t do that! God faces reality with us – empathizing with human suffering and pain whether or not we bring it on ourselves or if it’s caused by external forces that we cannot prevent from happening. What I’m suggesting is that with God’s help before we base how we feel and how we react to disaster that enters our tents solely on our own perception (or solely on someone else’s perception), let’s take time to scope out our situation.
We can start by asking ourselves, “What if my perception [of any circumstance I’m in] is a deception?”
And then take the risk to respond with: “Lord, if it is, please gift me with repentance*. Change my perception from deception to the reality of experiencing your promise of ‘doing immeasurably more than I could ever hope for or imagine**’ even when my perception of disaster has entered my tent.”
*Repentance in the original language means: Change of perception.
**Ephesians: 3:20
