|
Lists by Jill Arrowsmith |
|
|
|
|
 |
|
Some writers write fiction, some non-fiction; others write poetry. Me? I write lists. Things to do lists, shopping lists, lists of what presents we bought for everyone last Christmas, what clothes to take on holiday, and even lists of ideas for books I might write one day when I’ve finished all the jobs on those lists. The busier life becomes, the more lists I need.
I also write lists for other people, usually headed ‘Don’t forget …’. Mum’s lists are a private joke in our family. ‘I can feel a list coming on here’ regularly features in our conversations. Just recently, during a particularly busy spell, I was shocked to realise that I had also been giving God a list of things to do. Not that I wrote this particular list down, you’ll understand, but when I thought back over what I’d talked to him about that morning I had to confess that my prayer had been just that – a list.
‘OK Father, here I am – haven’t got long - a lot to do today. So here are the things I want you to do. I’ve got this list of ten problems for you to sort out. And these four people need healing. If you have time there are still a couple of neighbours that you haven’t got around to converting yet. And I’m not sure how I’m going to fit in all the jobs I have on my list today so please help me to get organised. Give me a bit more energy and make sure I don’t forget anything. The rest of the family could do with a bit of a nudge too. Oh, and if you could stop it from raining so that I can get the washing dry, that would be appreciated. I did ask you about that yesterday, but you obviously weren’t listening. Right, must get on.’
It was one of those nasty moments that Christians have from time to time - the realisation that you’ve been getting it all wrong, for years. I heard a preacher once say that the point of prayer wasn’t to change God but for him to change us. I had stored this away on my list of handy sermon quotes but had obviously failed to look at that particular list for a while. Now here I was giving God his orders for the day and even ticking him off for failing to carry out my instructions. As waves of shame washed over me I had to push that day’s lists to one side. Did I really believe I could tell God what to do? He’s the one in charge - the one with the lists!
Since then I’ve had to watch the way I pray, very carefully. I’ve been trying to remember to ask God what he’s got on his list for me to do that day. It hasn’t been easy – this role reversal. I’ve had to read that verse about the lilies of the field a few times and force myself to stop worrying. But do you know what? When you try to follow God’s orders instead of your own, all the really important jobs still get done. Even without a list!