As my company was preparing to interview for a building project, those attending and speaking at the interview gathered in a conference room to practice by going through the slides. When my slides came up, I took the clicker and began going through my part. This was the first time I had ever used this particular clicker. I have been going to interviews for three years and for three years have used the same one. This didn’t feel the same, the buttons weren’t in the same place. It felt off. As I transitioned a slide forward, everything went black on the screen. I cried out, “What happened?” Turns out, I accidentally hit two buttons at once on the clicker and it stopped the presentation.
It doesn’t take much for my mind to stress about what could go wrong. My mind focuses automatically on everything that could make me look foolish. What if I tripped? What if I got dizzy? What if I call someone by the wrong name? What if I forget what to say? Now, I could add a new worry to the list. What if I shut the entire presentation down? My co-worker, who was aware of my concerns, kindly ensured that we had “the clicker”, the one we always used, the steady and faithful clicker that would calm my nerves. One small thing that made all the difference for my piece of mind. When we got to the interview, we took in our unusual layout. The screen was not behind us as usual. It was instead in front of us. The audience had to choose whether to look at us or to look at our presentation. I responded to the unnatural feel of it, “I’m good because I have my trusty clicker”. It didn’t matter how the room was oriented or where the monitor was. This little thing in my hand gave me the confidence to believe that I could do it. Then, the dreaded words came from the client. “You can’t use your laptop. You need to use a zip drive to plug into our computer. Here is our clicker.” All my confidence was shot with one sentence. Once again, my co-worker came through. She asked and managed to swap out the clickers so steady and faithful was in my hand once again.
I promise you that our qualifications for doing a job well do not rest in our presentation progression skills. In my mind, however, my confidence grew with the comfort of the familiar grasped in my hand. Isn’t that just like us? We want to remain in our comfort: knowing what we are doing, confident in the familiar, holding onto something as if we are in control even if it’s false? God, let me grasp what brings me comfort, let me remain in comfortable places doing comfortable things. Even knowing you are with me, being held in your righteous right hand still feels precarious. I would rather latch onto this false sense of security than learn real comfort and real peace in you. In reality, familiar is precarious. No matter how much we plan and rehearse we are not in control. Changes can come more quickly than we are ready to respond to them. God rarely leaves us in places of comfort for long. We are led in the wilderness or through the valley of the shadow of death, hard places, not familiar places. But he provides for us, remains with us, and protects us along the way. We discover him and grow to know him and rely on him in our need, in ways that we could never in our place of comfort. Why, because we grow to understand and trust Him as our comfort. Often, our prayers and our desires for healing are selfishly motivated and God’s will for our lives is not even a factor. I just want to let this thing go. I cannot carry it any longer. I don’t want stretched or pruned. I don’t want to grow. I just want you to remove it from me so I can continue feeling like I’m in control.
Psalm 119:27-30 Make me understand the way of your precepts, and I will meditate on your wondrous works. My soul melts away for sorrow; strengthen me according to your word! Put false ways far from me and graciously teach me your law! I have chosen the way of faithfulness; I set your rules before me.
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