Daily Affirmations - Day 1- In This Place: Missing the Mark
- Alisa B.
- 3 days ago
- 3 min read
This week's Theme: In This Place
Day 1: Missing the Mark
The slight drip in the bathroom faucet could no longer be ignored. It was time to call in a plumber.
I was not there when the plumber made his visit, but the gist of his report was that the fix would neither be as simple or as inexpensive as I had hoped. The replacement part would be costly, and then there were, of course the labor costs. ¡Ay, caramba!
The plumber, however, did leave one glimmer of hope— the manufacturer might replace the damaged part for free, since many of them offer a lifetime guarantee. But he had not been able to determine the brand. Unfortunately, he said, the manufacturer information might be on the underside, and might not be visible until the pipes were removed.
Over the next few months, I tried my best to find a mark or manufacturer identification: I lay on my back and used a flashlight to probe into the underbelly of the entire structure; I went back to the store where I had purchased the unit (years ago) to see if I could find a similar one; I looked at the price of a replacement unit (gasp!); I enlisted the help of all visitors and passers-by— to no avail. And meanwhile, the drip continued.
More months went by. I had found a way to manage the drip by making sure I closed the faucet with a little extra tightening— ever so carefully, without exerting enough pressure to take things to next-level catastrophe.
And then one day as I was brushing my teeth, I happened to glance down, and there, right before my very eyes, was the name of the manufacturer, plainly visible on the built in sink stopper. I looked again, struggling to believe my eyes. Struggling to grasp that after months of using, scrutinizing, and meticulously cleaning, that sink, I had been missing the mark. Struggling to understand how, after "scouting expeditions" by the experts and everyone and anyone else, the name of the manufacturer was there— had been there all along!
To borrow words from John Keats, I stood in my shoes and I wondered. [i] And later I wondered at the much more significant searches in life that leave us with makeshift solutions bordering on the brink of catastrophe. I wondered at the subtle influences of "experts", who miss the mark themselves, and send us into fruitless expeditions— needlessly plumbing depths, exploring underbellies...
Genesis 28 gives us an account of something like this in the life of Jacob. Deceiver, usurper, cheat, he ransacked life in all the wrong places. Until he finally saw what should have been obvious all along:
Jacob left Beersheba and set out for Harran. When he reached a certain place, he stopped for the night because the sun had set. Taking one of the stones there, he put it under his head and lay down to sleep.
He had a dream in which he saw a stairway resting on the earth, with its top reaching to heaven, and the angels of God were ascending and descending on it. There above it stood the Lord, and he said: “I am the Lord, the God of your father Abraham and the God of Isaac...
All peoples on earth will be blessed through you and your offspring. I am with you and will watch over you wherever you go, and I will bring you back to this land. I will not leave you until I have done what I have promised you.”
When Jacob awoke from his sleep, he thought, “Surely the Lord is in this place, and I was not aware of it.” (Genesis 28:10-16).
Not all encounters with God are as dramatic as Jacob's. Redemption stories are set against a vast backdrop of life's scenes that include migration and displacement, loneliness and wanderings, homelessness and starvation, darkness and despair, oppression and imprisonment, chains and addictions, sickness and affliction, affluence and merchant ventures... (see Psalm 107). There is no place, no plight where we cannot discover, Surely the Lord is in this place— if we look for the Maker's mark.
Oh, and by the way, as for my faucet, the manufacturer sent a replacement for the damaged part in a matter of days!
[i] The Naughty Boy, John Keats
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