by Rhonda Rhea @RhondaRhea

How many batteries does it take to power the average American post-Christmas playtime? If I were to make a joke out of that question, it would probably include a clever play on words—maybe something about lithium ion versus lead oxide. No doubt we’d all get a big charge out of it. (A “charge”? Really? That’s all I could come up with there?)

At my house we continue to buy batteries by the boatload around Christmastime—even now that my kids are grown. Most of the batteries are for my husband. He still gets toys for Christmas. I would tease him about that except that I buy him most of the toys. And also I like toys.

I’m not sure I can even count the number of batteries we drained the year Richie got the remote-controlled helicopter. One of my favorite incidents that year was when he was still trying to learn how to fly it. Where’s an anti-torque pedal when you need one? He accidentally landed it right smack-dab in a big bowl of strawberry preserves. Unexpected. And so funny! Also, new invention:  jelly-copter.

A friend pointed out that all he needs to do now is learn how to land in the peanutbutter. Then he’ll be able to make a sandwich without ever getting out of his chair.

On the other hand, it’s not nearly so funny when life is feeling out of control and we find ourselves landing in something sticky. But we’re told in 1 Peter 4:12 that it shouldn’t be so unexpected. “Dear friends, don’t be surprised when the fiery ordeal comes among you to test you as if something unusual were happening to you” (HCSB).

Wouldn’t it be nice if we never experienced those out-of-control-feeling moments—if we didn’t have to struggle through the sticky? Our “someday” will be without difficult surprises. But in our here and now, living in a sin-cursed world makes a fiery ordeal a very common part of the journey. 

We have a tendency to think our suffering is unique. But for the most part, it’s not. Peter’s “don’t be surprised” is in the present imperative form—a command. The command is to stop it. Stop thinking this is unusual. Sometimes when we’ve been closely following Christ, our inclination is to be offended by a trial—to wonder “what did I do to deserve this?”

One paraphrase puts it this way: “Friends, when life gets really difficult, don’t jump to the conclusion that God isn’t on the job” (MSG).

In those moments when life is the stickiest, we can look at the difficulty as some kind of punishment or crushing defeat—even the absence of God working (which many people do)—or we can see it for what it really is. It’s the result of living in a fallen world. And sometimes it’s also a part of a refining process the Lord wants to use to conform us to the image of Christ.

We have instructions in just how we should respond in the very next verse. “Instead, rejoice as you share in the sufferings of the Messiah, so that you may also rejoice with great joy at the revelation of His glory” (1 Peter 4:13, HCSB).

As the Holy Spirit works in us, we truly can find ourselves rejoicing, all by His limitless power. Even in the stickiest trials. 

And that’s our glorious charge. Batteries not included. Or needed.

Rhonda Rhea is an award-winning humor columnist for great magazines such as HomeLife, Leading Hearts, The Pathway, and many more. She is the author of 19 books, including the popular romantic comedies co-authored with her daughter Kaley Rhea, Off-Script & Over-Caffeinated and Turtles in the Road. Rhonda and Kaley have also teamed up with Bridges TV host Monica Schmelter for the Messy to Meaningful books and TV projects. Along with Beth Duewel, Rhonda writes the Fix Her Upper series, and she also co-authored Unruffled: Thriving in Chaos with Edie Melson. She speaks at conferences and events from coast to coast, serves on many boards and committees, and stays busy as a publishing consultant. Rhonda says you can find her living near St. Louis drinking too much coffee and snort-laughing with her pastor/husband, five grown children, and a growing collection of the most exceptional grandbabies.