In my line of work when something goes wrong, what follows is a root-cause analysis and in the final report there is a section for “Lessons Learned,” which, more often than not, is misspelled as “Lessons Learnt.”
The few of you that read my blog know that I have been gone away from my family for quite a while. I departed on February 22nd and I returned on March 12th to participate in a job for my company in Chad, Africa. The job did not go as planned, but after the initial root-cause analysis we have some lessons learned that can be applied to hopefully garner success in the future. Well, in those 18 days, I learned quite a few things about myself.
First and foremost I learned, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that God is no puppet master. He doesn’t have each human dangling on a string to control their every movement and decision. He has given us all free will, and in so giving, that means that while you may be diligent, sincere and persistent in your prayers for something to go your way, if it depends on the actions of others, it still may not be answered to your liking.
Further to this, I realized that nine times out of ten, I pray for my will to be done. When I prayed to be home on the 3rd, that was my will. When I prayed to be home on the 9th, that was my will. I was basically saying, “Father, not Thy will, but my will be done.” I don’t think God likes that too much. Once the job kept getting delayed and I’d have to change my tickets AGAIN, I finally reached a point where I just threw my hands up and basically yelled, “WHATEVER!!!!” to the LORD. I’m sure He had quite a laugh at my expense Tuesday night as I walked the long walk back to my room after learning that “yes you can go home on Wednesday, but there is no room for you on the flight out of the base to the city, so you’ll have to wait till Thursday.” That was my breaking point. I’ve never been so frustrated, so angry, so confused in all my life. I wanted to cry. I did cry. When I went to bed that night, I laid there still as a board. Reluctantly I made the Sign of the Cross and I just could not say one prayer. Finally, I vocally whispered, “God, I can’t pray tonight because I am so mad,” and at that I wept.
“When you go to the Tavern, which is to God, and ask for His Love, He’s the bartender. And He gives you a drink, and what you have to give Him is an empty glass. There’s no point in giving Him your heart if it’s full already. There’s no point in going to God if your heart is full of Doris.” – Pete Townshend.
Up to that point, my heart was full. It was full of good things: family, home, playing with the kids, evenings with my wife, relaxation, etc. All of these things were what I had planned for myself. And while these things are inherently good, they had no regard for God’s plan for me.
And what about God’s plan? Did He have a reason to send me to Africa? Did I convert any Chadians to Christianity? Did I feed any starving children? Did I serve some other grand purpose that was made known to me once I arrived? No. But slowly I started to realize something very important: Many times during the days, and especially at the rig site, I’d use language that would make my mother blush. Each day that my stay was prolonged I grumbled, and the longer my stay got, the less and less friendly I became. The native people are quite nice and eager to smile at ex-pats and welcome them to their country. But I didn’t feel like smiling. I was mad. Yet, each day, at breakfast, lunch and dinner, I’d cross myself and bless my food!
“You sure do cuss a lot for a Christian.” – Don Horner
It was at that point that I realized that I was being a hypocrite, and I realized how hard it is to be a Christian and to be Christ to others when things are not going your way. It was a very humbling moment.
I learned to appreciate, more than ever, being Catholic, primarily for two reasons. One reason is the oft-criticized “rote memory” prayers. I’ve heard comments suggesting that prayers don’t really mean anything unless you say them on the fly or basically making them up as you go. Well, I was so mad at God, I could not do that. But I did manage an Our Father, a Glory Be and the trusty old Blessing Before Meals with no problem. If not for these prayers, I don’t think I could have prayed at all, and I’m very thankful.
But greater than that is the love and respect that the Church has for the Blessed Mother and oh, what a sense of peace I had whenever I prayed to Mary. The Tuesday night that I spoke of earlier, after whispering to God that I couldn’t pray because I was too mad, I asked Mary to help me, and I felt a strange sense of peace. I then pictured a little boy being mad at his father’s decision, so he goes crying to his mother. The mother consoles the child, but does not reverse the father’s decision. This is what Mary does for us, and what little peace I felt on this trip, I attribute to Mary’s intercession.
Finally, I learned that I take a lot of things for granted. When you are in Central Africa, there are not a lot of luxuries. The company base where we stayed was very nice, the rooms were very nice, air conditioned rooms with showers. But it was the little things that count. Real salt and pepper and Tony Chachere’s. Good old American Made Coca Cola. A cell phone signal. An internet connection that actually works all the time at a fast speed. Mosquitoes that won’t kill you. But the biggest thing that I realized that I take for granted is freedom. I don’t want to go all melodramatic on you, but being over there was kind of like being in a type of minimum security prison. Sure, I was free to roam the campus, go to the gym (which I did!), go to the cafeteria, surf the net, etc. But I couldn’t leave the base. Although I had tickets to leave on Wednesday I could not get a flight out, and there was no way to get to the city otherwise. I felt trapped.
So, yes, the life of the Williams family experienced a sort of diversion. But at least I take with me some lessons learned. And as long as we learn something, nothing is “for nothing.”
Peace.
