Tip of My Iceberg

68 steps.

I’m not talking about a couch potato response to exercise.

It was the number of steps to put together an IKEA desk.

It looked so simple.

Who were we kidding?

John had tried to put it together once before, thinking it would be a quick project. I’d needed a desk for some time– I have a little fold-up table by a chair in our bedroom so I’m not sitting in the kitchen while he’s trying to watch sports.

Or being enticed by all things food when I’m overwhelmed by details. A piece of chocolate is only a few steps from our kitchen table.

If I stay in the bedroom for too long, my comfy bed calls my name. Enticing me to take a break. Catch a nap.

If I fall to that temptation, I’m done.

My daughters helped me pick out this desk at IKEA–the store with so many wonderful, thrifty things that could make my life more enjoyable, more efficient.

Until you have to put the darn things together.

All the pieces came out of the boxes–anything that requires two boxes should have been the warning that this was going to be painful. We laid out the wood in a logical way.

Then came the bags with screws and all manner of multiple tiny objects.

68 steps.

Four hours later, he finished.

This is the first IKEA project that he didn’t have to take apart at some point and start over. A huge encouragement to him.

The thing with IKEA is you have to carefully follow the instructions. Which are not words. They’re all pictures. For all people of various languages worldwide that attempt to put their products together. They’re specific–showing which way to face the pieces, how many screws of which kind for each part.

It’s all in the details.

I could never live life as an IKEA project. Too often something makes sense to me, I ignore the rules and push ahead with my way. Intuitively.

Often requiring taking things apart and starting over. Again.

I’m not a great rule follower. I border on mediocrity.

Our world runs on rules. Laws. The correct way to solve a math problem or the proper speed to drive.

If rules aren’t followed, we often get caught. A bad grade or a traffic ticket. Neither of which is life-changing.

In life, however, the internal rules we follow may not be enough to get us where we’d like to go.

Most would like to believe there’s a heaven and fully expect to get there. Especially if they believe their good outweighs their bad.

It exists. The requirements for entering are simple.

Complete perfection.

When was the last time you encountered a perfect person? Or truly believed yourself to be one?

It’s why Jesus came. To pay a price we could never pay. The perfect sacrifice for all the mess we make of our lives and others.

I can’t believe this life is it. Too much sadness and horror for everyone. If I’m being gifted with the opportunity to be assured of my eternity, I’m going to take it.

Will you?