In a pickle

I was pushed back and about to fall, but the LORD helped me. The LORD is my strength and my song; he has become my salvation. – Psalm 118:13–14 (NIV)

Have you ever been in a pickle?

I’m sure you have. There isn’t a human being on this earth that’s never been in a difficult situation with seemingly no way out.

Now, that’s funny expression—“in a pickle.” Not funny in a humorous way, but in a strange way. Where did these sayings come from, anyway?

Shakespeare coined the phrase “in a pickle” in 1611 in his play The Tempest when Alonso asked Trincolo, “How camest thou in this pickle?” To which Trincolo replied, “I have been in such a pickle since I saw you last.”

Sometimes we get ourselves in pickles of our own makings (which probably birthed still another expression, “You made your bed, so lie on it.”). Other times our pickles are caused by situations over which we have no control.

Take David, for example. Plucked out of the peaceful pasture, where he watched over his father’s sheep, he was plopped down in a plush palace, where he strummed his harp to soothe a distraught king. All too soon, however, he found himself huddling in a cave, hiding from a jealous, insecure, power-hungry monarch who wanted to kill him.

This pickle David found himself in was not of his own making. He didn’t ask to be anointed king of Israel, and he didn’t plan to wrest the kingship from Saul.

Yet God called him from the sheepfold to the palace, then led him to the caves of Palestine for a reason.

A young lad was anointed king. By the time Saul was killed in battle, David was a man, known for his strength of character and honor. His courage in battle, shrewdness with his enemies, loyalty to his men (and to the man who was trying to kill him), kindness to the displaced, and faithfulness to God marked him as a man worthy to lead a country. The qualities strengthened while he was a fugitive in the wilderness sustained him throughout his reign.

His pickle done him good.

I’ve been in a few pickles myself over the course of my life, some of my own making, some not. Like David, I’ve learned that this isn’t always a bad place to be.

Pickling is a process during which something is transformed from the outside in by soaking it for a period of time in vinegar and salt. Flavor and texture are changed by the brine, and those qualities are preserved.

My pickles done me good. Even the ones I got myself into.

That’s because I learned to turn my pickles over to God and let Him do the work of the brine.

And when the brine’s the strongest, I find myself turning to the psalms David wrote. They chronicle his transformation from green cucumber to tasty pickle and give us a glimpse into a heart that God called after His own. In the first part of the psalm, David pours out his troubles to God. Then, about halfway through, his tone changes—with one little word, “but.” I call it “The But Factor.” (Read them—you’ll see what I mean.)

In spite of the pickles he found himself in, David affirmed his faith and trust in a God who would answer him when he called, who would make certain that good won over evil.

Are you in a pickle?

Remember the words of someone who found himself in pickle after pickle after pickle, even after he became king: “In my distress I called to the LORD; I cried to my God for help. From his temple he heard my voice; my cry came before him, into his ears” (Psalm 18:6).

Still in a pickle after you’ve prayed?

Think of the years David spent as a fugitive before he became king, and don’t fret about it. You still need more time in the brine.

Why are you cast down, O my soul, and why are you disquieted within me? Hope in God, for I shall again praise him, my help and my God (Psalm 42:5). Thank you, God, for the pickles I find myself in because I know they are what You use to transform me from the outside in. Amen.

Special-Tea: Psalm 118

The end of the valley

Your Father knows what you need before you ask him. – Matthew 6:8 (NIV)

I’ve reached the end of the valley of wait. Well, this valley, anyway.

Three weeks ago I wrote about a growing fatigue that was slowing me down big time and interfering with every aspect of my life. Yet my lab reports were “normal,” so my doctors told me. But I knew my body—after all, I’ve lived with it for almost 58 years now—and I knew something was wrong, something the lab reports weren’t showing.

As the fatigue and the frustration grew and no answers were on the horizon, I launched an all-out prayer attack. I asked everyone I knew who prayed to pray that the cause would be found, and sooner rather than later. For months my prayer friends interceded for me, asked for updates, and persevered.

While they prayed, I searched for answers: Was I reacting to something I ate or drank? Too much coffee, chocolate, or carbs? I stopped taking the iron supplements when I read that too much iron could be the problem. No matter what I tried, though, nothing worked.

One day while shopping, I picked up a bottle of Vitamin B-12. Ah, the energy vitamin. What would it hurt? I bought the highest potency available. But, not wanting to interfere with the test results, I didn’t start taking the high potency formula until all my lab work was completed.

I noticed a difference the first week. I was afraid to believe this could be the answer, but each day I felt a little better than the day before. A walk to the mailbox and back—a distance of four-tenths of a mile—didn’t wipe me out for the rest of the day. By the time I returned to the doctor for my follow-up appointment to discuss the results of my tests, I had more energy than I’d had in months. Gone were the constant crappy-draggy feeling, the brain fog, the food cravings, the insomnia, and continuous low-grade headache.

The answer turned out to be simple and, by this time, not surprising: a Vitamin B deficiency. Which is why the B-12 made such a difference.

“Continue taking the B-12,” the doctor told me, “as well as B-6, folic acid, and a good B-complex supplement.”

That’s it. No prescription. No scheduling a next appointment. “Call me if you need to,” he said.

When I got home, I researched the B vitamins and their function. I hadn’t realized the vital role they play in the proper functioning of the thyroid gland. I’d believed all along the problem was metabolic, with my underactive thyroid.

I hadn’t known—but God did. After all, He designed these bodies we live in. He created me and knows every intricate detail about me (Psalm 139).

What made me notice that bottle of Vitamin B-12 on the grocery store shelf? What made me decide to spend the money when money is tight and nothing I tried had worked?

You can chalk it up to coincidence, luck, even desperation.

But I chalk it up to the One who knows me better than I know myself.

Why didn’t He drop down His answer from Heaven right away? I don’t know. But I trust Him. His reasons are not for me to understand. He is, after all, God, not me.

The Valley of Wait, I wrote three weeks ago, is where I learn faith, hope, and trust. Where doubts are dealt with, and patience is strengthened. And where I grow closer to God through prayer because I pray more when there’s trouble than when everything’s hunky-dory. I realize my helplessness to help myself and my utter dependence on Him.

That alone is worth the wait.

Dear God, how can I say thanks for the things You have done for me? Things so undeserved, yet You give to prove Your love for me. The voices of a million angels could not express my gratitude. All that I am and ever hope to be, I owe it all to Thee. To You be the glory!* Amen.

* From “My Tribute” by Andrae Crouch, copyright 1971, Lexicon Music, Inc.