6.14.2016

Forgotten Storylines: How Sitcoms Taught Me that God Has a Grand Narrative

In my mind, there are two types of comedy shows: The kind that build a cohesive storyline throughout the episodes, and the kind where each episode is its own story. I'm sure they have industry terms, but I don't want to stop my brain dump to research them. Let's just call the former Arrested Development and the latter The Simpsons.

If you watch an episode of Arrested Development and then jump ahead a few episodes, you may be confused by why the lawyer is a different guy, or find yourself asking what happened to Marta or Gob's puppet Franklin or Charlize Theron and her fantastic fashions. However, you can go for years without watching an episode of The Simpsons and have no glitches upon reentry. I know - I've tried it.

I say all this to explain that I default to a perspective on my spiritual growth that is more The Simpsons than Arrested Development. My Teacher leads me into a new truth, and I marvel at it and may even apply it, then file it away for posterity. A while later - perhaps even a short while later - I'm given a chance to apply it in a new way, and I've completely forgotten the truth.

My husband often remarks at my repeated revelations: "Didn't you learn this before? I remember you telling me about this already." And each time, I look at him blankly for a bit, then start to recall the episode of my life to which he's referring.

It only makes sense that the Designer of the circulatory system and photosynthesis and outer space would also have a design for our individualized spiritual curriculum, especially if we're attentive students. So why do I keep going back to square one when faced with a new challenge?

The most recent example of this occurred a few days ago, when I was reflecting on my current season of life. It's no secret that I have three young children, and the common thinking seems to be a mom in my situation is exempted from service outside the home. This doesn't jive with me; I have too little gifting in domestic living to spend all my energy there. But I had begun to resign myself to the idea that common thinking must be God's thinking.

And then I stumbled across my birth story of the twins, which I wrote in 2015. Yes, one year ago. In it, I talked about how God isn't interested in simply doing things the safe, established way. He likes risks and leaping out of the boxes we try to put Him in.

Smack!

As I pulled this truth rock out from where it had lodged itself between my eyes, I was saturated with excitement at the prospect that He had something adventurous (and probably unsafe) in store for my family. I relished the concept of taking action that matters - that also includes my kiddos.

I was also admittedly embarrassed that I needed a refresher course so soon after the initial lesson. But, hey, I'm sure I'll need it again, because my short-term memory loss is impeccable. And I'm so grateful I serve and am loved by a God who has grace with this glaring imperfection.