The Right Replacement

It’s in the early 80s. I’m a teenager. A Choleric teenager, to be exact. I hate being told what to do. I want to do my things, in my way, on my time. (Come to think of it, not much has changed in twenty-five years . . . !)

It’s family worship time, and I feel persecuted. Imposed upon. I don’t want to be here. Family rituals are foolish time-wasters.

My father, in an attempt to draw me in, invites me to read the evening scripture. I don’t want to read. I know everything in this book already.

I take the proffered Bible and begin to mechanically read aloud. My mind still stews over the injustice of the situation. I shouldn’t have to be here. I’m old enough to be making my own choices. I . . . I . . . I . . .

(If you’ve ever been texting one person while talking with another and suddenly realize you’ve mixed up the two conversations, you’ll have a feel for what happens next!)

Uh-oh. Something’s not right.

I do a quick mental rewind and replay of what I’ve just spoken. The results are so astonishing, I blurt out, “What did I just say?”

My father — with amazing vocal and facial restraint — recites back my last sentence.

What I should have read: “And then God said to the children of Israel…”

But instead of reading the word “God” as clearly spelled out in the text, I’ve substituted a totally different word: Cheri.

My own name.

What I’ve actually just spoken aloud: “And then Cheri said to the children of Israel…”

I’ve unconsciously replaced the name of God with my own name.

I am still amazed by my parents’ restraint that day. Oh, the scolding they could have given me! The disrespect! The sacrilege! The blasphemy!

Instead, they left me to the ministrations of the Holy Spirit, who immediately found greater space to work, my super-sized ego being greatly deflated.

I’d love to say that I’ve only made this embarrassing mistake once in my life. But truth be told, I struggle with this “little” substitution every minute of every day of my life.

I want to do my things, in my way, on my time.

Psalm 46:10a, “Be still and know that I am God,” reminds me that the flip side is also true: “Get yourself upset, and believe it’s all about Cheri.” (Click to Tweet this.) When I let my mind go off on tangents — focusing on what I think, what I need, what I want — I’m at risk of replacing God with myself. What a wretched substitution!

The problem, at least for me, is one of focus. In Ray Bradbury’s Fahrenheit 451, the shallow self-centered Mildred understands only one sentence from a book: “That favourite subject, myself.” I can’t stand Mildred as a character, but I identify with her. My mind’s favorite focus, its default setting, is Cheri.

Isaiah 26:3 invites me to choose a new focus:

“You will keep in perfect peace…all whose thoughts are fixed on you.”

Focus on God instead of myself. Now that’s the right replacement.