98.6

While in prayer yesterday with some friends, the unchanging nature of God was referenced. We paused to give praise to a God who is stable though the world is ever-changing. And during that prayer time we also called upon God to make us like Himself by changing us.

Praying for life-change is a common theme in my prayers. I believe that God desires to have His followers be transformed into the image of His Son. You see, God is working a restoration plan. Since sin shattered that image we shared with God when creation was untainted by sin, a part of God’s Kingdom dream is to restore the harmony between His character and ours.

I paused during our prayer time to consider that paradox. We come before an unchanging God and pray, not for our nature to be unchanging, but for change – consistent, rapid, obvious change – to become a reality in our lives.

Nothing overly profound here, for if God is perfect and we are not, the obvious optimal plan is for God to remain perfect and for us to change until we become complete/perfect too. That stopped me in mid-prayer-step, however.

Do I fully appreciate the unchanging nature of my Creator?

Do I truly want to be transformed in every aspect of life that I might become like Him?

My body (and yours) has an internal thermostat. Our body is constantly working to maintain a body temperature of 98.6 degrees. When I am too cold, my body works harder through blood flow, shivering or goosebump-raised hairs to bring warmth, and if that doesn’t work my brain usually has enough capacity to formulate a plan for warmth (build a fire, turn up the thermostat at home, put on more clothes, rub my skin, drink hot tea or hug somebody – not just anybody however. . .). When I am too hot, blood flow helps cool me down and sweat enables me to cool by the evaporation of moisture from the surface of my skin. If that proves inadequate I may shed some clothes (some, not all), drink icewater, run for the A/C, find shade, fan myself or jump into water. The ideal is 98.6. My life is a constant flow of adjustments to draw close to the ideal.

God is the 98.6 of my total life. He is the Pinnacle of perfection. I will never hit the mark before my heart stops beating, but the thermostat of my soul should be set to that notch. As a point of spiritual survival, I must allow my soul to sweat and shiver. I must be willing to have my blood run fast or slow as the circumstances dictate. I must do the things that need be done to draw closer to the 98.6 perfection of my Lord.

“Father, place in my heart the impulse of your holy ideal that I might always strive for the supremacy of your character.”

Clipped!

Our dog, Molly, is a full-blood mutt. She was picked out of a litter of pups huddled in a cardboard box in the parking lot of Wal-Mart ten winters ago. The lady who owned the box and the canines within charged us $0.00 for the purchase. Molly’s been worth every penny.

Actually, she’s been a great dog, still playful and even-tempered. She only teeters off the edge when one of three things happens: when she gets her hair clipped, her nails clipped or when she gets a bath. That’s why I usually try to do all three in one swift series of events. Not because I love to torment her, but because I suppose the agony is lessened by having it all occur in a short span of time. It’s no picnic for me either (her barber, manicurist and hygienic specialist). After it all, I feel like I’ve taped a special edition of “Dirty Jobs.” I’m ready for a nap.

Monday (Labor Day) was the day. In the matter of 60-90 minutes the torture would be over. After all was said and done she looked great and smelled great. But every time I walked near her, fearing I might impose another diabolical injustice on her, she scrambled under the bed.

It amazes me that after nearly eleven years she still shakes like Jello in an earthquake when the clippers begin their ominous buzz. She knows she will live; nevertheless, it freaks her out.

Doesn’t she realize how important this grooming is? Doesn’t she recognize how much more comfortable she will be and how much more willing we will be to pet and hold her after the deed is done? Apparently not.

And I’m not much smarter when it comes to being under the hand of God’s grooming. The discipline of His correction, the practice of prayer and attention to the Bible seem chore-like at times. I wonder if there is any gain. I wonder why I can’t simply be hooked up to a spiritual IV and have His Spirit pumped into me. Oh yeah, I hate IVs. . .

I don’t always like the process of becoming more beautiful in Christ, but I like the results. And that is why I press on. Unlike Molly, there are many times that the process is a joy, even a feast. But for those days when I stand shivering in the shadow of His grooming, I look forward with hope to what He is making of me.