Change of Attitude

Being Boxed In!

“I have other sheep that are not of this sheep pen. I must bring them also. They too will listen to my voice, and there shall be one flock and one shepherd.”*

     After our fifteen year old washer stopped working, there was about a one week wait until a deluxe new one arrived. I was delighted when the delivery truck pulled up to our house one morning, but was a little anxious about the opening of the doorway leading down to the basement. Its dimensions happened to be smaller than recommended.

     However, the delivery men got the machine through the door and successfully maneuvered it down the basement stairs. It was still a tight fit, even after taking it out of the box first. They installed the new machine and then hauled the old one up the stairs, leaving behind as an extra bonus the large cardboard box.

     Since school happened to be out that day, our two youngest grandsons were with us when the delivery men arrived. While I was excited to try out the new washer, Elliot, a second grader, was even more excited to try out the box! Despite the fact that the box was bigger than he was, Elliot managed to get inside by tipping it over. Once he had crawled inside, he rocked back and forth until it stood on end. Now how to get out? With a little more rocking, the box tipped back onto the floor and Elliot slid out.

     “Elliot, are you alright?” I asked, concerned that he might have landed on his head. But he assured me that he was fine.

     Elliot’s “tipping over” game lasted for several minutes until his older brother, Nate went downstairs to investigate. When I checked on them a little while later, the basement was empty with just the box sitting in the middle of the floor. Silence! Hmmm, what were they up to this time?

I tiptoed to the box and peeked over the edge, to see two faces grinning up at me. “How did you both get in there?” It must have been quite a sight watching them rock and tumble in the box. No damaged bodies or hurt feelings though.

     With a couple of books, a pencil and paper for Nate to write on and a sleeping bag draped over them to keep warm, they spent nearly an hour sitting in those tight quarters, as happy as could be. “Make sure you can breathe,” I requested before going back upstairs. When the call came from Al that breakfast was ready, the game was abruptly abandoned. Even boxes can’t compete with pancakes!

     It was at least a couple of weeks until the boys returned to their hideout in the basement. This time, the big box was lying on the floor between the two dog crates belonging to our pets. The crates were empty, thankfully; however the box was occupied.

     Nate informed me that it was a jail, with different cells. Elliot, who had committed some kind of ‘crime’ happened to be sitting in the box, peering out a makeshift window. His crime wasn’t too serious and he was going to get out soon, according to the jailer! But, Elliot didn’t like this game as much as the previous one. After a few minutes, he came upstairs and told me that he’d been in jail “five months” and that was just too long!

     When Elliot was hiding in the box alone, he seemed to have a sense of security and safety. Well, he isn’t the only one. Most of us seem to have an innate fear of people who are different from ourselves, whether it is a difference in appearance, race, religion or of values and beliefs. Rather than reaching out to all people, thinking of them as God’s children just like ourselves, we tend to withdraw into our own little worlds, boxes, where we feel safe and secure. But are we really? Or, with time do those boxes change into cells?

     Father, forgive us for being afraid of those who seem different. Please help me, help us all to climb out of our boxes and reach out to others with the love of Christ. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

*John 10:16 NIV