Wait for It...

Wait for It…

Theology in the Trenches

by Kathleen Kjolhaug

Well, I did. I waited for it.

Perhaps a mere twelve years old I was when I’d won a trip to the Regional Science Fair at a college some sixty miles down the road from where we lived.

I’d built a smoking machine. It was a simple demo where a cigarette was placed on the end of a black rubber tube and somehow, when I released the clamp which was attached, into a glass beaker went the smoke…film and all…depicting a real-time demonstration of what smoking can do to the lungs.

The judges came and went as I gave my pitch…ownership was all mine.

It was the end of the day and awards were mere minutes away. The students gathered…hundreds of them as I sat amidst the crowd awaiting a ribbon out of the deal. At least I was hoping for one.

Up first were the white ribbons winners. Listening closely, I did not hear my name announced.

Hopefuls still stood as the red ribbon winners were called to the podium. Still, no roll call was called with my name upon it. Could it be?

Quiet and hopeful I remained as the blue ribbon winners were read.

Still, my name was not called, and I remained on the floor.

                                             

Perhaps I’d won a purple ribbon! The thought came incredulously as my heart pounded. Champion of champions…could it be?

One by one the champions were called, and still, I remained upon the floor. The gym was all but empty… all but the remaining judges upon the stage, a few lingering students, and my mom who was waiting in the wings.

Slowly, I made my way up to the stage. Quiet confidence bubbled up and out as I made my voice heard. Well below stage height I was as the judge whose attention I’d caught stooped down from above to hear my request. “I don’t think you called my name, and I was wondering if I’d won a ribbon.”

Slowly, she went through the list. Down past the purples…down past the blues…well into the reds she was when her head snapped up flashing the clipboard in my direction. Sure enough, there was my name written upon it. And, just as sure, she handed over a red ribbon that was due me.

Mom never said a word. She did not step forward to speak with the judge; rather, she smiled on as she watched me handle my predicament. Without a doubt she felt each painful and awkward moment; yet, she never said a word. I remember not the ride home…but what I do remember is the red ribbon, my work, and my ownership of it. I dealt with the dashed hopes and was proud of what I had achieved. There was no pressure to do more or to be more. I simply was a red ribbon winner.

We were all just a bunch of kids doing what we were interested in, studying what we wanted to, and in the end, we each got into the car to go home with our parents. Yup…safe and sound …ribbon or no ribbon…we were pretty much on level playing fields at the end of the day…just kids on our way home.

I guess that’s how life pretty much plays out in the long run. Nobody brings their ribbons, or toys, or gathered goods with them to the next destination. Nope. We just go with our Father who is waiting in the wings. He watches proudly as we do what we do on this earth. He made us for such a time as this...in order to do the works that were planned out before we were born.

Ephesians 2:10 says so. “For we are God’s masterpiece. He has created us anew in Christ Jesus so we can do the good things He planned for us long ago.”  Amen.