Can We Microwave Wisdom?
God wired me in a way that I love to learn. When I come across something that piques my interest, I want to know everything there is to know about it, down to the finite detail. Elk hunting, fly fishing, Bible learnin’, nothing has escaped my love to learn. The problem is I want to know everything in a matter of minutes. If I could write myself a diagnosis, it would read, “Classic case of Express Expertitis” (So I made it up, or maybe I didn’t. I should do some research.) I want the cliff notes, the Master Yoda version of all topics, rather than enjoy the process it takes to be a master.
This self-inflicted disease ran rampant in one particular situation when I was first learning about how a vineyard works. Studying the process that a vineyard goes through is fascinating to me. The parallels of vineyard development and biblical discipleship are incredible. From prepping the soil to pruning the vines, it’s easy to see why Jesus uses the vine to explain so many spiritual truths. One of the greatest factors in producing great fruit is time. The vines require time to truly mature. In fact, if the process of vine growing is rushed, disease could set in.
It drives my wife crazy, but I learn intensely! Once, while walking though a vineyard, I had the opportunity to follow the winemaker around and badger him with all of my questions. I know now that my kids’ question asking comes honestly.
The winemaker continued to reference the issue of time and patience. Even the pace of his answers took time, so much so that I became anxious just following him around. Everything seemed to move so slowly. I found myself wanting to know it all, zooming through the technicalities. I thought, let’s just get to the end and show me the final product.
I can’t be the only one who wants to microwave wisdom. Are we not like this in life? Sometimes, I want God to just “BAM!” – zap my learning, as if I could simply download it like an app. Just tell me the answers, God!
In all honesty, it’s irritating how God is much more like a slow, simmering crockpot. His greatest lessons take time, and impatience can be costly. Moses was in the desert for 40 years before God was ready to use him. He took a position as a shepherd before he could be used to free the sheep of Israel. Moses couldn’t have taken on his role as a brash young man. He needed to be developed, pruned, and established in the desert before God could use him.
Much like the winemaker knows, a vine rushed to fruit too soon can develop disease. I can’t help but think that the process of learning can be a passion, but it also cannot be rushed.
Just like my relationship with God, I can’t truly know Him, until I have truly experienced Him.
Experience is only gained through practice and through time. God’s lessons take time, and my impatience may cost me in ways I don’t even know I’m paying. I might not be able to stop “relaxing so intensely” any time soon. I may determine my way and have a plan to blaze a trail, but I trust the Lord has determined my steps, and I’m guessing He has determined the pace too. (Proverbs 16:9)