Mark Spruill

I just hate it when the remote control for the TV is lost.  I start yanking out sofa cushions, sliding furniture around and accusing family members of negligence.  This scene played out this past Sunday night with an unexpected outcome.

One thing I have learned when going on a remote control search: Even if you have searched through the sofa and you are sure it’s not there, look again.  It’s probably in the sofa.  We lost the remote control for the VCR one time.  It was missing for a year.  We looked through the sofa multiple times during that year. Then, a year later, while moving the sofa, we found the remote.  In the sofa.

Such was the case this Sunday night.  As I fumed about the missing remote, Sam came down to help look.  He started looking in the sofa.  “I’ve already looked there,” I said with frustration.  Knowing “the one truth about missing remotes,” he just kept looking in the sofa anyway.  And sure enough, we finally found the remote . . . in the sofa.  But not before finding a car key, a Fisher Space Pen, and a cell phone with eight missed calls on it. 

I never promised that everything I write about will have some spiritual meaning.  Perhaps this little incident was just what it was: A search for the remote control.  But I was reminded of it this morning while reading about the Prodigal Son.  He was lost, then found.  Perhaps in some small way, the world is like a giant sofa.  We are at times like the lost remote.  And Jesus, like Sam, just keeps on looking in the sofa until He finds us.

Luke 15:24 ‘for this my son was dead and is alive again; he was lost and is found.’ . . .

It’s pouring down rain and I have a wet seat.   I drive a little Miata convertible with a leaky top.  From what I hear, it’s not that unusual.  Anybody that has had a convertible for long knows that sooner or later, it will leak.  For me, it leaks sooner AND later. 

Sometimes the leaky top really frustrates me, but over the years I’ve learned to live with it.  I keep extra towels in my car and try to park in spots that lean the right direction so as to run the water in the least leaky fashion.  It’s all part of the trade-off.  A convertible top is just not ideal for a rainy day . . . but oh when the sun is shining on a beautiful spring day . . .  For me, it’s worth the trade-off.

Life is full of trade-offs.   Getting wet in the rain versus feeling the sunshine on a spring day.  More work hours may equal less family time.  A higher paying job may equal more stress.  Bigger house, smaller house, cars, toys, fame, responsibility, donations of time and money, everything has trade-offs.  I think one of the keys to contentment in life is knowing what to trade, and being happy with the trade-offs you make.

Jesus was the master of trade-offs.  Satan offered him some bad trades. 
“Turn the rocks into bread and you won’t be hungry,” he said.  “Worship me and I’ll give you all the kingdoms of the world,” he offered. 
Jesus said, “No thanks.”  He had a better trade in mind. 

It happened on a cloudy day over 2000 years ago.  As the sky grew dark, they nailed Jesus to a cross and a trade-off took place.  Many would have thought he got a bad deal.  But He saw the future as well as the past.  He saw me and all of us who call Him Lord and Master.  He saw a world He loved and decided it was worth the trade.  He looked through the eons of time, saw me driving my little Miata while talking with Him on a sunny spring day, and traded His life for mine with no reservations.  I’m so glad He did.  It was the grandest trade-off that will ever be made.  And it’s enough to make me sing His praise, even when it’s pouring down rain outside.

For God so loved the world that he gave his only son . . .