(A re-post.)
So a while back, I was riding in a car with a person I’ll call Plumcake. At a stoplight, while deep in discussion about something else, Plumcake suddenly gasped and delivered this raging non sequitur:
“Look at that car — it has a ‘333’on the license plate! Oh, thank you, Lord!”
Hmmm. I looked at the car. It was just a car. I didn’t get it. I was NOT catching the fever. Or whatever she had.
She continued earnestly:
“The Lord has told me that whenever I see the number ‘333,’ it means He’s thinking about ME and loving ME.”
Umm, wha???
Clearly, Plumcake was joking or temporarily off her nut. I decided a solid, but noncommittal, response was the chuckle. What person, whether joker or nutter, could object to the chuckle? So I chuckled. Instantly, Plumcake threw a withering glare at me. It seemed she was utterly serious, I was 5 years old, and that chuckle was wrong, wrong, wrong! Shame on me! Duly chastised, I shut my mouth, too stunned to make a peep now. I sat in silence while she rhapsodized about ‘333.’
I thought this was an isolated incident, but since that moment I’ve heard her publicly gush over anything with 333: addresses, phone numbers, digital clocks. I was at her house one afternoon when the kitchen clock struck 3:33. I watched wide-eyed as Plumcake and The Plumcake Kids danced a little jiggedy jig of joy: “It’s 3:33! God’s thinking of me. Woo-hoo!” I, however, did not join in the jiggedy jig, nor did I feel the joy.
Frankly, I thought the whole hubbub seemed rather exclusionary, seeing as how God was apparently thinking just of Plumcake and there WERE other people in the room. Kinda rude, God.
And if God is in the numbers, I’m scared. Terrified, really. Because I ain’t good with numbers.
I’ve given some thought to Plumcake’s spiritual epiphany and I’ve got just a few niggling questions. First, why 333? I mean, why that number? Is “God in the number” because the three digits are identical? Is that the magic of it? And what would happen, Plumcake, if I just wrote 333 on a piece of paper? Would that mean God’s thinking of you or would that mean that I just wrote 333 on a freakin’ piece of paper?
But, wait, let’s not be too dismissive now. Maybe God is speaking this way. Maybe God IS in the numbers. So then what’s next? Story problems?
Oh. Sweet. Lord.
Just think of the ones ALMIGHTY GOD could come up with: “Two trains depart from Toledo. If one travels at the speed of a hummingbird’s wings, and the other, the speed of an eyelid blink, which one arrives in HELL first??”
Oh, the shivers. I’d be toast for sure. My utter incompetence with numbers would cement my spiritual doom forever and ever. I’m shiny with sweat just thinking about it.
But maybe it’s not story problems. Maybe it’s these numbers, as Plumcake says. So then does God speak exclusively through the identical three-digit number? And how do all believers get one of these? Because I don’t think there are enough of them to go ’round.
I mean, let’s count together, shall we:
000, 111, 222, 333 (Plumcake’s), 444, 555, 666 (uh, Satan’s), 777, 888, 999.
By my count, that leaves only 8 of these “God numbers” left over for the rest of us.
Wow. This is really rough. I’m sorry to tell you that God does not love you, nor is He thinking of you. Tough, tough break.
What is going on here?? Where are Christians getting these foolish, fairy-tale notions? Where? Please understand. Plumcake is a lovely(-ish) person. I don’t question that for a moment. What I question is superstition and fantasy creeping into believers’ hearts, weakening or replacing firm foundations. You may say, “Well, I don’t buy into these notions.” To that I say, “Thank God,” but there are enough Christians who do that we need to be concerned. Really concerned.
This concerns me too: I know a couple who dubbed their youngest child the “Resurrection Baby.” The husband had had an affair and in the midst of the traumatic fallout, they got pregnant. According to them, the baby was a “sign from God,” of the “resurrection” of their marriage. Wow. No pressure, baby. Mess that diaper. Spew those peas. Save that marriage.
One day, the husband blithely said to me, “Well, I guess this means I get to stay married now.” Really? Is that what the blessed baby means? Or does it perhaps mean a chance to avoid, to deny, the deep and abiding issues that brought your marriage to the brink? Or — does it perhaps mean that you deftly manipulated your broken and betrayed wife into bed — at least once? Why is that a sign from God? Given his flippant attitude, I questioned whether baby was, indeed, a “resurrection” or a deflection.
Has the God of the universe transitioned into the business of saying what we want to hear, of saying that which is facile, expedient, and small? Or have we become so immersed in our spiritual ADD and laziness that we want — no, need –– God to speak in ways that are facile, expedient, and small?
It seems The Word is no longer enough for us. Our souls are so hollowed by society swirling around us that we seek, not just instant gratification, but instant sanctification. The lifelong process is simply too wearisome, too burdensome. We need a God who speaks in newer, better, faster ways. We need a God who’s just more efficient. Please be easier to understand, God. Please speak to me right now, God. Please give me a “word” that makes things better for me, God. What we want from God diminishes the very idea of “God.” What we want from God diminishes our chances of becoming more like him. Still, we want it. And believe me, it’s astounding what “God” will say to a desperate, vulnerable mind. I’m adamant here … because I’ve been there. And back, thankfully.
God gave us the Word, His radical love letter to the world. He woos us to The Enduring Romance, but we settle for the quick, cheap thrills of “333” on the back of a car. He gave us His precious Spirit, but we still crave a sign, any sign, as long as it’s the one we want. His Word gives us a foundation, but we long for flights of fancy, for the whimsical escape of other, newer words. We are desperate for His love, but numbed to the bloodied, beautiful proof of it on the cross.
Just give me another sign, God. Speak a new word to me, God. Thanks for 333, God.
We have The Cross. We have The Word. We have The Holy Spirit.
What else do we need?
“Leave your simple ways and you will live; walk in the way of understanding.” Proverbs 9:6
I’m initially surprised at being the first to comment on what I think is the most well-written and most profound post I’ve read in years–and I think it is exactly that, Tracey. Then I realize that it’s a post that covers so many aspects of virtually EVERY life that responding isn’t easy. I mean, how do we even START to get into a subject which is about nothing less than the nature of God, and the complicated human condition (a condition which, among other things, tries to ascribe human LIMITATIONS to God)? Even the secondary subject of something else we have all experienced–the pain of having formerly wonderful relationships either break or wither away (a pain which can still hit us at unexpected moments, years afterwards)–is worth an entire website, not just a single post or a quick response. Thank you for daring sometimes to take on–amid all the fun and light posts you often do, which are a kick to read–the most difficult and important subjects in every person’s life.
Slam dunk, chica. Jolly well said.
What a post! I, too, have been the victim of friends who “diagnosed” me with generational curses. I enjoyed reading your “Joey at the pond” post. You and I seem to have a similar direct, non-tactful, nail you to the wall for an answer approach. It sure beats the hell out of passive-aggressive!
FABULOUSLY written post, Tracey.
If the majesties of God’s creation are not enough to remind us of His abounding love for us.
If the quietness and gentleness of my soul are not enough.
If the peace that only He can grant me is not enough.
If not His very Word that speaks of how “I am convinced that nothing can ever separate us from his love. Death can’t, and life can’t. The angels can’t, and the demons can’t. Our fears for today, our worries about tomorrow, and even the powers of hell can’t keep God’s love away. Whether we are high above the sky or in the deepest ocean, nothing in all creation will ever be able to separate us from the love of God that is revealed in Christ Jesus our Lord.”
If this is not enough and we must resort to magic numbers.
Then I just don’t have the words to say what I feel.
Dave, WG, ASM — Thank you so much!
Renee — Hahaha! You’re killing me:
“a similar, direct, non-tactful, nail you to the wall for an answer approach!”
I’m choking with laughter … because it’s so true! It’s the generational curses that make us this way, I tell ya.
(Now, see, Joey would tell me right now, “Oh, DON’T say THAT! You just CURSED yourself!” To which I would curse under my breath.)
I swear she was NOT insane when I first met her.
Tracey…what can I add that hasn’t already been said?
Another very well thought out, well written, balanced piece. I love coming here!
Bravissima, Tracey! An inspiration.
I’d like to submit a few of God’s favorites so that your friend can be comforted…
Chipper Jones, Atlanta Braves – 333 career home runs. However, his next round-tripper will drop him from favor (a warning against greed, perhaps)
The 333 Coffeehouse – proof that God’s True Faith is, apparently, the Unitarians.
Concordia Public Schools of Kansas – Go Panthers!
Then again, there’s Fort Lauderdale, Fla. – which occupies the 333xx Zip codes. (If you want in on the blessings but don’t want to move, convince your local authorities to use the “333” area code, which is currently not assigned.)
November 29th – the 333rd day of the year (note – only blessed on non-leap years)
That should be enough for now… Consider it my service in charity for my brethren!
Tee-Tee, I must say that I absolutely love your blog! I stumbled across it from a link-from a link-from a link-from a friend’s site and have been reading it daily ever since. I absolutely love your Piper stories; they remind me of when my girls were babies. Oh, and your friend “Joey” needs to read Ezekial 18. I think the “sin of the father is visited on the children” means that the choices we make affect future generations, so we should choose wisely. Also notice that it’s only to the third and fourth generations, whereas, those who love the Lord are blessed for a THOUSAND generations. No where are “generational curses” mentioned in the Bible that I’ve ever found. If I’m mistaken, please correct me!
Your friend’s comments also remind me of the comment about your paper doll witchcraft voodoo hex! Where do well-meaning Christians get these strange ideas? When I read the Word, my interpretations seem pretty tame by comparison. Makes me wish for such wild revelations from God! LOL!
I forgot to add that I think we’re soul-sisters…I really relate to a lot of your ideas…the picture of David dancing naked before the Lord never ceases to delight me! He and I are kindred spirits–sometimes a bit irreverent, sometimes downright naughty, but always seeking God in the midst of our badness. David’s story showed me that there’s hope for me! And to think that I actually said DAMN on a website–I’m so thankful for God’s grace, because sometimes I just gotta be me!
Renee — YES! The whole Ezekiel thing. I shared that with Joey. I can’t remember if I mentioned in the Joey Chronicles or not. I think I did.
Anyway, yes, you ARE right. Also, that verse they ALWAYS quote from Exodus is taken totally out of context. GOD is the one who does the blessing AND the cursing, if you read it through.
So, nyyaaah to that whole thing. It sucks. I have more posts in me about it, I’m sure!
And … trust me … I’ve said a lot worse than “damn” on this blog, Renee. And I’m so glad to “see” you here!
(Love that name, by the way. It’s my middle name. Whaddya know?)
LYN — You always tug at my heart. It never fails. Thank you.
Nightfly — Sorry! You went into moderation because of the links.
Oooh, Fort Lauderdale. Gotta pack my bags. Guess that’s the closest a devil like me can hope to get.
And I’m afraid to check out the Unitarian thing — but I will! Our landlords at ol’ Shamblefield were Unitarians. And THE most bizarre people ever. Not that those two things are related AT ALL.
Okay. She would SO FREAK OUT about that Unitarian thing.
This is just my own personal preference, obviously, but I prefer my God to not be so OCD.
red — Hahahaa! EXACTLY.
I missed this in the fallout of the Joey-escapade. Theologically, it’s probably the best post I’ve read from you.
Hmmm… theologically accurate, interesting and entertaining… I guess it can be done!
rev — How nice, thank you!
Spot on, woman! Not only is it scathingly accurate, it made me laugh too.