GOD IS TO BE MET AND LISTENED TO NOT TO BE SAT DOWN AND TALKED TO.
“Be very careful, then, how you live—not as unwise but as wise, making the most of every opportunity, because the days are evil” (Ephesians 5:15-16).
William R. White is a masterful storyteller who has a quaint tale that reminds us of the hiddenness of kairos time. To change from chronos to kairos time is to discover that prayer is not a pry bar given to us to open the future. All watches must be checked at the gates of the throne room. None who wish to commune with God can ever see him while they insist that he tell them exactly where their lives are going. God is to be met and listened to not to be sat down and talked to. God alone says when he is through talking and the time of our communion is over. We are fortunate to have an appointment with God. We must lay down all our appointment books; they are not significant in the King’s presence.
There once was a king who ruled his small country with justice and love. Unknown to his subjects, the king would put on a disguise in the evenings and roam the streets of the towns in order to understand life from the perspective of the people.
One night as he walked in disguise, the king was drawn to a simple cottage. The doors and windows of the house were thrown wide open, and inside a rather robust man was eating and singing with great volume. Knocking on the door, the king inquired, “Is a guest welcome here?”
“A guest is a gift from God!” the man shouted. “Please, enter and eat with me.”
The king sat down and began to eat the very simple but substantial food that rested on the table. The two men talked freely, immediately feeling a bond between them. Finally the king asked, “What is your trade, my friend?”
“I am a cobbler,” came the enthusiastic reply. “Each day I take my tool kit and wander about town fixing people’s shoes. They give me some pennies, and I put them in my pocket. When the day is over, I spend it all to buy my evening meal.”
“You spend all of your money each day?” the king asked incredulously. “Don’t you save for the future? What about tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow is in the hands of God, my friend,” laughed the cobbler. “He will provide, and I will praise him day by day.”
Before the king left that evening, he asked if he might return the next night. “You are always welcome, my friend.” The cobbler replied warmly.
On the way home the king developed a plan to test the simple cobbler. The next morning he issued a proclamation prohibiting the repair of shoes without a permit. When he returned the next evening he found the cobbler eating and drinking and making merry. “What have you done today, dear friend?” the king asked, hiding his surprise.
“When I heard that our gracious king has issued a proclamation prohibiting the repair of shoes without a permit, I went to the well, drew water, and carried it to the homes of people. They gave me some pennies, I put them in my pocket, and went out and spent it all on this food,” the cobbler sang. “Come, eat, there is plenty for all.”
“You spent it all?” the king asked. “What if you cannot draw water tomorrow? Then what will you do?”
“Tomorrow is in the hands of God!” the cobbler shouted. “He will provide, and I, his simple servant, will praise him day by day.”
The next morning the king decided to test his new friend again. He sent his heralds throughout the land announcing that it was illegal for one person to draw water for another. That evening when he returned to visit the cobbler, he found him eating and drinking and enjoying life as before. “I worried about you this morning when I heard the king’s proclamation. What did you do?”
“When I heard our good king’s new edict, I went out to chop wood. When I had a bundle, I brought it to town and sold it. People gave me some pennies, I put them in my pocket, and when the workday was over, I spent it all on this food. Let us eat.”
“You worry me,” the king said. “What if you cannot chop wood tomorrow?”
“Tomorrow, good friend is in the hands of God. He will provide.
Early the next morning the king’s heralds announced that all woodchoppers should report immediately to the palace for service in the king’s army. The cobbler-turned woodcutter obediently reported and was trained all day. When evening came, he was given no wages but he was allowed to take his sword home. On the way home, he stopped at a pawnshop where he sold the blade. Then he bought his food, as usual. Returning to his house, he took a piece of wood and carved a wooden blade, attached it to the sword’s hilt, and placed it in his sheath.
When the king arrived that evening, the cobbler told him the entire story. “What happens tomorrow if there is a sword inspection?” the king asked.
“Tomorrow is in the hands of God,” answered the cobbler calmly. “He will provide.”
In the morning the officer in charge of the palace guard took the cobbler by the arm. “You are to act as executioner today. This man has been sentenced to death. Cut off his head.”
“I am a gentle man,” the cobbler protested. “I have never hurt another man in my life.”
“You will do as you are commanded!” The officer shouted.
As they walked to the place of execution, the cobbler’s mind was exploding. As the prisoner knelt before him, the cobbler took the hilt of his sword in one hand, raised his other palm to the heavens, and prayed in a loud voice, “Almighty God, you alone can judge the innocent and the guilty. If this prisoner is guilty let my sword be sharp and my arms be strong. If, however, he is innocent, let this sword be made of wood.”
Dramatically, the cobbler pulled his sword from the sheath. The people were amazed to see that the sword was made of wood.
The king, who had watched the events from a distance, ran to his friend and revealed his true identity. “From this day forward you will come and live with me. You will eat from my table. I will be the host and you will be the guest. What do you say about that?”
The cobbler smiled from ear to ear. “What I say is, the Lord has provided, and you and I together will praise him day by day.”
