It all began in our downstairs den with the thought: "There's just not enough room for me to do my Wii Fit." Harmless thought really. It was the process that followed (see if you recognize it) that did the damage. "But with a little adjustment, I could make enough room. I just need to move the entertainment center to a different wall. But before I do, the movies are really a mess. But so are all those movies behind the bar. (We don't use our bar for drinks - it's considered extra storage.) I really need to find a better place for those. What if I put those on the shelves where the games are? There are some games back in that old closet - really should combine all those in one place. But I can't even walk in that closet." You can imagine how this reasoning played out. I cleaned out the closet to clean off the shelves to clean out the bar to organize the entertainment center to move it to another wall. This took the entire morning. The pivotal moment came. I moved the couch. I moved the chair. I moved the tables and the lamps.
Entertainment systems, however, are a different breed of furniture. They involve wires. Lots of wires. Wires that I was absolutely certain I could never reconnect in the right places. But I'm smarter than the average rock. Rather than disconnect everything... I disconnected only the necessary things. And I made a chart of the back of the VCR, the DVD player, the "whatever that other box is", and the TV, meticulously noting which wire plugged where. And I set each unit on the floor. EXCEPT the TV. Our TV is large.
I remember the day Jon brought it home. It was a gift. He and Jonathon carried it downstairs - it was all they could do to get it in place without tearing it up. The top of the furniture bore the wounds. There it sat. Ominous. I'm not sure why, but somehow I thought I was going to be able to push the entertainment center + TV over to the other wall. I grabbed one end, and as I pushed, I imitated a cartoon. Sock feet slipping, I ran in place for a few seconds. "Okay, the TV needs to be removed. I'll go get help." Now in the time it took to reorganize the entire basement, everyone in my family had disappeared. Everyone was raptured but me.
A sane person would have said, "I'll wait till the second coming" or at least until a large man arrives. Here was my thinking... "I'll just have to do it myself." Ironically, I actually said aloud, "Denise, use some ingenuity - you're a smart woman." No, really. I did say that. Really.
I knew I couldn't move it to the floor - I'd never get it back up to that height. So... I brought over an end table. I put a large pillow on it. I won't explain my reasoning - it seemed like a good idea at the time. It was almost the same height - the pillowed table was a little lower. I tugged and pulled and, yes, I managed to get the TV safely to its precarious position on the pillow. I put my sneakers on to get traction and pushed the entertainment center to the other wall, moving connected wires, speakers, etc. as I went. Finally it reached its destination. Now I had to lift the TV off the pillow and "scootch" it back up to its original position.
Enter the stupid part. (I know, you thought we'd already reached it...) I tried using the extra long pillow case to sort of LIFT one side and maneuver one end onto the system. This only served to put the pillow in an unnatural position (in the way!) so I let the pillow drop and began working the end up to where it needed to be. Then I stopped and prayed. "Lord," I said, "I need a little bit of that Samson strength. I've got the hair and I've laid off the wine..." I'm sure He was amused. And then with every bit of power I had, I lifted the TV. It was ugly, but I managed to get it up there. But something kept getting in the way and I couldn't push it to the center. It was getting heavier and heavier, but I finally got it to a place where it wouldn't fall. And then I saw it. The problem. I never measured to see if the cable cord - which was now fully stretched out of the wall - would be long enough.
So I said to myself, "Self - you need to move the whole system back about a foot." This posed the new problem. I now had to remove the TV AGAIN, push the system AGAIN, and then put the TV back in place AGAIN. A sane person would have said, "Maybe I should wait until I have some help." But I said, "Well, I did it once; I can do it again."
I pulled the TV off onto the once again pillowed table. I pushed the entertainment center back about a foot. And then I lifted one end of the TV back up to its spot. I prayed. I lifted it again and then I had a vision... it was of a 5'4" woman on the floor with a 42" TV centered in her chest - the only thing visible was a head, two arms, and 2 legs - flattened... found by her family... once immobilized... now dead. Flash to Jon explaining at the funeral about his wife's early demise. (A quick thought that he had trouble finding a pastor to do the funeral... those of you that know my current situation understand...) Once the vision passed... I realized the depth of my foolishness, but I was at an empass. I couldn't put it back (table was mysteriously moved back too far and the pillow was a nuisance) and, unless I wanted to flatten my stomach with something other than the Wii Fit (which I now blame for this entire incident), I had to get a grip (both literally and metaphorically). Survival mode kicked in and I managed one last burst of power. I swear... God must have thought the whole thing was funny enough to reward me with something other than death. Either that or the fear of humiliation caused a surge of adrenaline.
I shared all this for 2 reasons:
First, never pick up a giant TV alone. DUH!!!!!!!
Second, this is what God said to me: never pick up a giant TV alone.
Okay, He said a little more than that - but He is quite practical. He said, "Do not involve yourself in great matters or in things too difficult for you." This comes from Psalm 131. Let me quote the whole chapter so you'll see the full force. "O LORD, my heart is not proud, nor my eyes haughty; nor do I involve myself in great matters, or in things too difficult for me. Surely I have composed and quieted my soul; like a weaned child rests against his mother, my soul is like a weaned child within me. O Israel, hope in the LORD from this time forth and forever." There are a lot of verses that might have been equally fitting. For instance, "The way of a fool is right in his own eyes..."; "fools die for lack of understanding..."; or even "do not move the ancient boundary [or entertainment center] which your fathers have set." (Okay, that was a stretch.) I digress. But God chose Psalm 131.
And I know why. There are alot of things that are too great for us - not just 42" TVs. Lately I've had a few of those great things. I've seen my "smallness" in the aftermath. But I think I forgot about my smallness in the middle. Sometimes we think we are more powerful than we are. I've even been so foolish as to think I'm powerful enough to ruin God's reputation. Funny thing is... God's into redeeming the foolish for His own reknown. The injured furniture and somewhat damaged TV will be a reminder to me that not only do I need help, but God says to refuse to ask for it is pride and haughtiness. It's okay to holler in the middle of the crisis, demanding Samsonite strength - but God would rather us curl up in His lap beforehand, discerning what is too great and too difficult from His view.
Sort of wish I had sat "in the heavenlies" with Him, looking at my basement, listening to Him say "that's too difficult for you". Wish I were more able to do that in matters of ministry, in matters of relationships, in times of fear. In the next difficult situation - maybe I can recall the vision of a flattened 5'4" woman and a God who is greater than 42" TVs.
