On A Basement Shelf

 

O

ne of the least likely places to learn life lessons was in our basement, or so I thought.  As a young boy, there was nothing, and I mean nothing, alluring about our basement.  The idea of setting foot in the place, especially after dark, was not particularly inviting and to tell the truth, I didn’t really relish being down there by myself during the daytime either.  I always felt as if something or someone was watching and the noises I never noticed upstairs now set my nerves on edge.  Each creak of the floorboards and every crack and pop of the house sent my imagination swirling in all directions. 

 

So, you can imagine my reaction every time my mother sent me to the basement to dig something out of the freezer for dinner or to find something she needed for a project she was working on.  I did what she asked me to do, and I did it as quickly as I could.  On more than one occasion I ran into the basement, located the particular item she needed, and bolted out of there as fast as I could.  The trick was to get in and out in record time before anything could grab me and prevent me from seeing the light of day again. 

 

Ah, the vivid imaginations of childhood!  How comical they are now but how serious and real they were then!  I really didn’t like the basement much but always seemed to go in and out without any real trauma.  There was one place, however, that really bothered me.  On a shelf in our basement, back in a small alcove, mom used to keep canned vegetables.  When she needed a jar of tomatoes, a jar of green beans (which are my favorite vegetable by the way), or a jar of pickled beets, she usually sent me to retrieve them from the nether regions.  

 

This part of the basement was dark even though there were windows overlooking our driveway.  The problem was that our house sat on a hill so as I progressed further and further into the basement, less light and more darkness was the standard fare.  The shadows dominated that small area, and I grabbed the first jar that came within reach.  I put a death hold on the container and ran out, making sure not to drop my prize.  That would mean another trip to the basement, something I definitely intended to avoid. 

 

As I look back on it now, I think about the treasure stored in that dark recess.  Day in and day out the vegetables sat there, ready for our table, waiting only for someone to come and retrieve them.  All it took was someone to brave the darkness, to put aside his fear, to be willing to risk the hazards of the basement, all for a wonderful taste of mom’s home-canned vegetables. 

 

In Exodus 20:21, we find a parallel application to my visit to the basement.  This passage simply reads, “The people remained at a distance, while Moses approached the thick darkness where God was.”  The Children of Israel had successfully left Egypt, crossed the Red Sea, and come to the foot of Sinai where Moses would receive the law. Moses brought the people to the mountain’s base in order to meet God, but the people were afraid.  They didn’t want to brave the dark cloud where God was. They were afraid to risk the possible hazards of the unknown, so they remained at a distance.  Only Moses approached the thick darkness and only he got a taste of the One inside the cloud. 

 

What a treat the people missed.  They had their occasion to meet with God directly but because of their fear, their worries, and their mistrust, they missed their opportunity.  Inside the darkness, God was waiting for them.  All they had to do was enter the cloud.   

 

And this is where we are today.  God beckons us and welcomes us to join Him in areas that are sometimes frightening to us.  We can’t see exactly where we are going, we are afraid we might lose control, and we refuse to trust our Heavenly Father. Yet, if we are to experience God in all his fullness, if we are ever to know Him intimately, if we are ever to understand what it means to be completely abandoned to our Lord, we must enter the thick darkness where He is.  There is nothing in the darkness except Him, and if we are where He is, we will be completely and utterly safe, no matter the circumstances surrounding us.  Sometimes life’s greatest spiritual lessons are found in the least likely of places, like on a basement shelf.  Have you been there lately?