I paused in the middle of the aisle, turned to my friend, and said, “What on earth am I doing in here?” as I observed all the “organic” folks milling about me in the natural food store.
How did I end up in a West Coasty store stocked with things like chocolate-covered goji berries and garbanzo bean flour? Talk about your proverbial fish out of water. I grew up on fare like fried chicken, mashed potatoes, Jello, and chocolate chip cookies made with flour that actually started out as wheat. Normal stuff, not foofy food.
Cruising the aisles of this trendy market , I couldn’t help but wonder, “How’d I get here?”
But I already knew the answer: desperation.
I traveled to this alien world in search of a few specific items to begin a new eating regime I’m experimenting with in order to improve my health.
I thought I would be at least remotely familiar with most of what was edible in any store in this neck of the woods. I am, after all, no rookie when it comes to eating. But, no. The shelves of this store were packed with all kinds of stuff I’d never heard of.
I’m sure I looked as tense and disoriented as I felt. It was like I’d never shopped for groceries in my life.
Ever felt discombobulated like that? Ever found yourself surrounded by things you don’t quite understand? Ever feared that everyone around you could tell you were out of place and obviously uninformed, unenlightened and inept?
It happens to us all on occasion, and it doesn’t feel good.
In fact, the fear of feeling out of place and uncomfortable can keep us from experiencing many things that might be life-changing, life-enriching, or even life-saving.
How many people, for example, refuse to explore the truth about God—who He is, what He says, and why He created us—because they’re afraid of looking silly or like some kind of religious kook?
How many people miss the rich, incomparably good plans of God because they’re afraid His path will be too uncomfortable?
When I finally got serious about knowing Jesus Christ and started hanging around with people who shared that passion, I’ll admit I felt like a stranger in a strange new world. I wasn’t used to talking about God as though He were real and relevant, even though I had come to sincerely believe He was.
But I hung in there, and it was beyond worth it.
I read that a young man once approached the philosopher Socrates and said he wanted to know truth. Socrates led him down into a river and held the lad’s head under water, nearly killing him. The young man fought and gasped for air. When Socrates let him up, the fellow said, “Why did you do that?” and the philosopher answered, “When you want truth as desperately as you wanted air just now, you shall find it.”
We have to be desperate enough for truth and for change to be willing to sometimes feel, for a time at least, a bit like we’re wearing a wool shirt in July. Change is nearly always a bit scratchy at first.
We may end up in an organic food store, or a gym, or even more eternally important—in the loving arms of a God who bids us to come and know Him.
A bit of temporary discomfort is a small, small price to pay for life.
“So let usknow, let us press on to know the LORD.Hisgoing forth is as certain as the dawn;and He will come to us like therain,like the spring rain watering the earth.” – (Hosea 6:3)