February 19, 2009
Expert Opinions
My sophomore year in college I spent a semester studying in England. When it came time to plan spring break I had one destination on my mind; Italy. I made plans with my friend Katie for the perfect trip roaming around the Italian country-side. We met in Milan and traveled then to Florence, Fiesole, and finally Venice. We spent hours on trains, in museums, and trying to discern the menus at sidewalk cafes. It was an experience full of terrifying and transcendent moments for two 20-year-olds trying to act like adults.
Our last evening in Venice, after spending a fortune on a gondola ride with a driver who sang only a medley of Beatles classics, we decided to eat a meal to rival Italy itself. Katie’s grandfather had given us a generous amount of money with specific instructions that it be spent on one fantastic Italian meal during our trip. We
asked several locals for suggestions and ended up at the Antica Trattoria Poste Vecia, one of the oldest restaurants in Venice. It was to be our final meal before returning to the crumbs offered to us by the United Kingdom. (Who puts cottage cheese on a hamburger?)
So we made our way to the banquet table in the dimly lit establishment. Our waitress approached the table and we gave her our only request. Our instructions; “Bring us whatever the chef recommends. We have 100 Euro and we are spending it all tonight.” Five courses and two full stomachs later, we determined that Katie’s grandfather was the greatest person to have ever walked the earth. Italy had offered us extraordinary cuisine before, but this was an entirely new level of fine dining. In retrospect I realize that our meal would have been amazing even if we had only had fifty Euro. What made our meal so fabulous was the expert opinion of our Italian chef!
It’s a simple concept, and yet I tend to assume that my decisions are going to be the ones that make for a memorable meal. But generally, without the thoughts of an expert, my Italian feast could end up like an appetizer from the Olive Garden. And although I enjoy the Olive Garden, it just can’t compete with the Trattoria Poste Vecie.
I like to think I know exactly what my life needs. And if there’s one thing I want to get right, it’s my existence on this earth. I so desperately want to leave a legacy. I have hopes and dreams to fill a thousand journals. I have list after list of things to do before I die. I would probably pre-order all the courses of my life from a menu if it was an option.
Earlier this year I was given a piece of paper and told to create a list of my dreams/hopes/goals in only five minutes. Some might have panicked, but this was not a problem for the chronic list-maker. I felt like it was Christmas morning! By the end of our time I had close to 30 items on my list and I hadn’t even remotely begun straining myself. Feeling quite smug, I waited for the speaker to have us call out how many items were on our list. I knew I was going to be the winner even though this wasn’t even a competition. (I love winning.) Instead, the speaker challenged us to think about our list and consider how often we take our lives and hold them up to the Lord and say, “Hey Lord! Here’s my list! Why don’t you go ahead and sign off on this for me? That would be great. Thanks, I’ve got it from here!” Ouch.
We were then encouraged to turn the paper over and to simply sign the blank side. What an initially frightening thought. I don’t get to make my own list? What if God fills my blank sheet with owning a cat, working as an accountant, and lots of other things that I quite frankly, dont want?!
Take some advice from Katie’s grandfather and go with what the chef recommends.
"Lord, I give up all my own plans and purposes, all my own desires and hopes, and accept Thy will for my life. I give myself, my life, my all utterly to Thee to be Thine forever. Fill me and seal me with Thy Holy Spirit. Use me as Thou wilt, send me where Thou wilt, work out Thy whole will in my life at any cost, now and forever." -Betty Scott Stam
Our last evening in Venice, after spending a fortune on a gondola ride with a driver who sang only a medley of Beatles classics, we decided to eat a meal to rival Italy itself. Katie’s grandfather had given us a generous amount of money with specific instructions that it be spent on one fantastic Italian meal during our trip. We
asked several locals for suggestions and ended up at the Antica Trattoria Poste Vecia, one of the oldest restaurants in Venice. It was to be our final meal before returning to the crumbs offered to us by the United Kingdom. (Who puts cottage cheese on a hamburger?)So we made our way to the banquet table in the dimly lit establishment. Our waitress approached the table and we gave her our only request. Our instructions; “Bring us whatever the chef recommends. We have 100 Euro and we are spending it all tonight.” Five courses and two full stomachs later, we determined that Katie’s grandfather was the greatest person to have ever walked the earth. Italy had offered us extraordinary cuisine before, but this was an entirely new level of fine dining. In retrospect I realize that our meal would have been amazing even if we had only had fifty Euro. What made our meal so fabulous was the expert opinion of our Italian chef!
It’s a simple concept, and yet I tend to assume that my decisions are going to be the ones that make for a memorable meal. But generally, without the thoughts of an expert, my Italian feast could end up like an appetizer from the Olive Garden. And although I enjoy the Olive Garden, it just can’t compete with the Trattoria Poste Vecie.
I like to think I know exactly what my life needs. And if there’s one thing I want to get right, it’s my existence on this earth. I so desperately want to leave a legacy. I have hopes and dreams to fill a thousand journals. I have list after list of things to do before I die. I would probably pre-order all the courses of my life from a menu if it was an option.
Earlier this year I was given a piece of paper and told to create a list of my dreams/hopes/goals in only five minutes. Some might have panicked, but this was not a problem for the chronic list-maker. I felt like it was Christmas morning! By the end of our time I had close to 30 items on my list and I hadn’t even remotely begun straining myself. Feeling quite smug, I waited for the speaker to have us call out how many items were on our list. I knew I was going to be the winner even though this wasn’t even a competition. (I love winning.) Instead, the speaker challenged us to think about our list and consider how often we take our lives and hold them up to the Lord and say, “Hey Lord! Here’s my list! Why don’t you go ahead and sign off on this for me? That would be great. Thanks, I’ve got it from here!” Ouch.
We were then encouraged to turn the paper over and to simply sign the blank side. What an initially frightening thought. I don’t get to make my own list? What if God fills my blank sheet with owning a cat, working as an accountant, and lots of other things that I quite frankly, dont want?!
If I ask the chef for the house specialty, he’s not going to bring me bologna. Why am I so terrified of what the Lord would bring into my life? We have a God who in Matthew 7 says that he loves to give us just what we need! And Paul reminds us in Philippians 3, that EVERYTHING is a loss compared to knowing Christ. As much as I want my list, I must trust in the One who is the expert on what I need and who he has created me to be.
Take some advice from Katie’s grandfather and go with what the chef recommends.
"Lord, I give up all my own plans and purposes, all my own desires and hopes, and accept Thy will for my life. I give myself, my life, my all utterly to Thee to be Thine forever. Fill me and seal me with Thy Holy Spirit. Use me as Thou wilt, send me where Thou wilt, work out Thy whole will in my life at any cost, now and forever." -Betty Scott Stam
See you guys this weekend for our first weekend of the new PROMISELAND series! - Ginger
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