The Things I Don't Understand

2/8/2001

When I was a kid, my family lived a couple of miles from the shipyards in Newport News, Virginia. A friend of ours at the shipyards invited us to the drydocks to see the ships being built. One was an aircraft carrier, the U.S.S. Enterprise. I remember thinking as I walked beneath the hull that I had never seen anything so enormous in my life; so longÉso wideÉbuilt with steel so thick. The propellers looked bigger than the house we lived in, and probably were. The colossal flight deck appeared so disproportionately large that the ship looked too top-heavy to stay upright in the water. The massive anchor chains looked like something you see in a dream when you are running a very high fever. I realized these people somehow thought this ship was going to float, so I asked how, expecting a very simple and easy-to-understand answer. I remember the answer well, but forty years later, displacement still doesnÕt make any sense to me.

There are other principles besides displacement that I have learned to trust in even when I don't understand them. IÕll give you an example.

Last week, our son who is in pilot training in the Air Force asked us to pray he would do well on a formation check-rideÑkind of like a final exam for flying. I received an e-mail from him after the check-ride. He wrote:

"Murphy's Law strikes again. Amazing how I can go through months and months of flying here, seeing almost everything there is to see in the jet, then on my check-ride, the winds are blowing harder than they have the entire time since I've been here. (The severe crosswind caused him to miss intercepting a course with a normal intercept headingÉa deduct on the check-ride.) On final approach, I was worried about having low fuel, so I forgot to check the crosswinds. Turns out they were out of limits for a formation landing, so I also busted for poor situational awareness." He was pretty bummed, and went on to say, "Éas you know, praying for a certain outcome is sort of like praying for your team to win the game. Best thing you can pray for is safety and a good time for everyoneÑthese things were definitely accomplished."

As I thought about what happened to him, a principle (that often makes as little sense as displacement) kept coming to mind. I responded:

"I am sorry to hear about the check-ride. I know it is disappointing. I hate it when I don't do as well as I can...in any situation...and for any reason. It's like knowing that you're a good shot, but then squeezing off a bad one on a beautiful buck, then watching him run off while the guy beside you is thinking #@!*^&! Then, to add insult to injury, you have to answer everybody who asks how you did. Aren't you glad to know that in 30 years you'll still be dealing with the same issues, just different scenarios?

"Point is, let me remind you that these experiences make you a better man, as I'm sure you already know. Not a popular 'how to succeed in life' philosophy from the world's perspective, but definitely is from God's perspective. Paul asked God to take his particular form of screw-ups away: Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, "My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness." Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ's power may rest on me. (2 Corinthians 12:8-9 NIV)

"I realize that probably doesn't make you feel any better than I did when I missed the deer...and I'm not trying to relate my inconsequential shot at a deer with your career pursuit...but the principle is the same, regardless of how big or little the application we use it on. Either way, I'm proud of you and I love you."

Two days later he wrote back and said, "ÉSpeaking of perfect, the verse about Paul's weaknesses was awesome. ÉI put it (the check-ride) behind me, thanked God for the chance to grow a bit, and did well on my make-up flight today."

Power made perfect in weakness? How can it be? Paul told us in verse 7. You see, he was a very gifted person who had a lot going for himÉconceit was not far away. He wrote: Therefore, to keep me from becoming conceited, I am forced to deal with a recurring problem. That problem, Satan's messenger, torments me to keep me from being conceited. (2 Corinthians 12:7 GWT) In one sense, PaulÕs situation is like the U.S.S. Enterprise. Guess what a ship with a high superstructure needs to keep it from overturning? A heavy ballast. PaulÕs superstructure (his strengths and abilities) could have overturned him, but the stabilizing effect of a heavy ballast (God helping him with his weakness) kept conceit from capsizing him.

In his essay on "Compensation," Ralph Waldo Emerson said, "As no man ever had a point of pride that was not injurious to him, so no man had ever a defect that was not somewhere made useful to him." We drive ourselves to maximize our strengths that can often become the 'injurious points of pride,' all the while running desperately to evade anything that may be a weakness. The paradox is that our perceived strengths may well topple us, while God can help us work through our weaknesses to become a stronger person.

I am sure that when it happened, my son would have said that the 'Unsat' from his first encounter with a 95-knot crosswind on his check-ride was a better example of weakness than strength. Looking back, however, one can easily see how that experience could one day save his life: if so, it will definitely demonstrate 'God's power made perfect in his weakness.'

What I don't understand is why I missed the deer.