Some days truth is stranger than fiction. This week I have already written about G. our triple amputee and her trials, and then today I get a call from V. who has been blind from birth. As you can see, our church is rather full of the physically challenged, and they need lots of help.
But I have never had a blind man ask me to buy him a computer before. Of course, blind or not, V. is as human as the rest of us and he not only wants a computer, he wants a laptop computer! I said to him, “V. why do you need a laptop, they cost 6 times as much as a desktop? (local prices are quite different than what you can purchase at Circuit City) ”Well I need to run this program on the computer that will read books to me“ he replies. ”That still does not explain to me why you need a laptop rather than a desktop“ I patiently explain to him. ”And by the way, what configuration do you need to run this program?“ I innocently asked.
Of course V. doesn’t know what a configuration is, much less what RAM, HD or GhZ mean. Think of trying to explain a computer to your great great grandparents, who have actually never seen a computer! Now do this in your third language . . . needless to say, other people who were in my office were howling when I tried to explain to V. that yes indeed computers do have mice. I was trying to help him, but he thought I was just trying to get out of buying a computer for him.
I asked him who would start the program for him? He said that he would himself. I said, ”V. I hate to tell you this, but you are blind. You can’t see the start button on the screen.“ ”There are buttons on the screen?“ he asks in wonderment. ”Yes, you move the mouse to the Start button (I am assuming this is a Windoze variety) and click the button.“ I said. ”Why do you need mice to click buttons on a screen?“ he guilelessly asks me.
Long long long conversation short, I finally wrangled out of him that he wanted a laptop instead of a desktop, because someone had told him that desktops were bigger. I once again reminded him that he wouldn’t be seeing the darn thing anyways, so what did it matter?? He then asked me, ”How big exactly is a desktop?“ Mother of St. Peter, how do you answer that to a blind man???? So finally after a conference with the people in my office, we decided to tell him that a desktop was about the same size as a TV. That seemed to satisfy him, though he has never seen a TV either.
The conversation went on for much longer, as I tried to explain that the man wasn’t tell him the exact truth when he said that the program would run on any computer . . . you don’t even want to know how this part of the conversation went.
As funny as this exotic conversation was, I am thinking that God must feel very much the same with me in our prayer conversations. I ask for things without remotely understanding the real issues at play, and then I get a bit angry with God when He doesn’t immediately give me what I want. Or like V. I asked with utter confidence for healing, stuff, or perceived needs without an inkling of genuine understanding about the end result. Not only that, but I am usually certain that I know more than God does about whatever the topic under discussion is about.
Perhaps what God wants from me is simple, real, unshakeable, unbreakable, never-ending trust. Just like I needed V. to trust me that I knew what I was talking about when it comes to computers and how that impacted his wants and needs. Sadly I am much more like V. the blind dude, than the straightforward trusting fellow that God wants me to be.
But I have never had a blind man ask me to buy him a computer before. Of course, blind or not, V. is as human as the rest of us and he not only wants a computer, he wants a laptop computer! I said to him, “V. why do you need a laptop, they cost 6 times as much as a desktop? (local prices are quite different than what you can purchase at Circuit City) ”Well I need to run this program on the computer that will read books to me“ he replies. ”That still does not explain to me why you need a laptop rather than a desktop“ I patiently explain to him. ”And by the way, what configuration do you need to run this program?“ I innocently asked.
Of course V. doesn’t know what a configuration is, much less what RAM, HD or GhZ mean. Think of trying to explain a computer to your great great grandparents, who have actually never seen a computer! Now do this in your third language . . . needless to say, other people who were in my office were howling when I tried to explain to V. that yes indeed computers do have mice. I was trying to help him, but he thought I was just trying to get out of buying a computer for him.
I asked him who would start the program for him? He said that he would himself. I said, ”V. I hate to tell you this, but you are blind. You can’t see the start button on the screen.“ ”There are buttons on the screen?“ he asks in wonderment. ”Yes, you move the mouse to the Start button (I am assuming this is a Windoze variety) and click the button.“ I said. ”Why do you need mice to click buttons on a screen?“ he guilelessly asks me.
Long long long conversation short, I finally wrangled out of him that he wanted a laptop instead of a desktop, because someone had told him that desktops were bigger. I once again reminded him that he wouldn’t be seeing the darn thing anyways, so what did it matter?? He then asked me, ”How big exactly is a desktop?“ Mother of St. Peter, how do you answer that to a blind man???? So finally after a conference with the people in my office, we decided to tell him that a desktop was about the same size as a TV. That seemed to satisfy him, though he has never seen a TV either.
The conversation went on for much longer, as I tried to explain that the man wasn’t tell him the exact truth when he said that the program would run on any computer . . . you don’t even want to know how this part of the conversation went.
As funny as this exotic conversation was, I am thinking that God must feel very much the same with me in our prayer conversations. I ask for things without remotely understanding the real issues at play, and then I get a bit angry with God when He doesn’t immediately give me what I want. Or like V. I asked with utter confidence for healing, stuff, or perceived needs without an inkling of genuine understanding about the end result. Not only that, but I am usually certain that I know more than God does about whatever the topic under discussion is about.
Perhaps what God wants from me is simple, real, unshakeable, unbreakable, never-ending trust. Just like I needed V. to trust me that I knew what I was talking about when it comes to computers and how that impacted his wants and needs. Sadly I am much more like V. the blind dude, than the straightforward trusting fellow that God wants me to be.
1 comment:
That was good!
Me too. :-(
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