Karen Burkhart Logo
Home PageBiographyMusicReflectionsEventsContact MePromo Kit

Reflections

Monday, April 16, 2012

Take Me Higher


My husband, Matt, a history buff and former intern with the U.S. Senate, had been looking forward to a family trip to our nation’s capital since we brought home our first son from the hospital. Now, with two boys, ages eight and five and an unusually warm spring, it was finally time. Matt knew where he wanted to stay and excitedly made the hotel reservations. I think he considers making reservations part of the mantle of fatherhood to provide for and serve his family. And he must be right. Whenever I make the reservations, though we usually save a few bucks, we end up wishing we could stuff them into the mattress for added comfort. There seems to be something in the heart of a father that understands that some things in life
are worth an extra cost.

We left home around 4:00 pm on the eve of Spring Break, and, seven hours later, we arrived at the Pentagon City Ritz Carlton. We were excited but mostly exhausted and eager to turn in for the night. As Matt began unloading the van, I called to him and told him that I would check-in. Caught off guard, Matt nervously looked up at me through the luggage rack and said, “If there’s a problem with the reservation, come and get me.” I answered back, “sure”, wondering the whole time what exactly he could mean by “problem.” When I arrived at the front desk, I gave our name and was told we would be staying on the seventh floor. Recalling the concern in Matt’s voice, I said to the clerk, “Um. That’s a non-smoking room, right?” I was proud of myself for thinking of the only possible problem Matt could have been referring to. I was assured it was in fact a non-smoking room.

Moments later, Matt and the boys arrived at the front desk and I led us toward the elevator. When I told Matt we were on the seventh floor, he responded with obvious disappointment. “I had requested a HIGH floor,” he said. Hoping my optimism would catch on, I said, “I think seven is pretty high”. I could hear the sigh under his breath—his expectations were not met, and he was kicking himself for not doing the check-in himself. By the time we made it to our room, the tension was thick; even the kids could sense it. We opened the door, moved the luggage inside and I ran over to draw the curtains to check our view. Buildings. Lights. Good!. Then Matt came over to take a gander. Validated, he said, “This isn’t the view I wanted.” I tried to assure him that the view was great, and I said, “If we were up any higher, we would just see the tops of those buildings and I’d rather look directly at them.” Determined to get what he came for, Matt picked up the phone to call the front desk to request a different room. Now there were four people sighing—me, the boys, and the luggage valet. When Matt hung up the phone and the corners of his mouth were slightly upturned, the rest of us knew an elevator ride was in our future. We trooped out of the room with the luggage rack in tow, listlessly filed into the elevator, and the boys argued over who would get to press “seventeen.”

As soon as the door to our room opened, I made a bee-line for the curtain. Determined to show my husband what a waste of effort we had just undertaken, I flung the curtains back. I could not believe my eyes. The Washington Monument. The Jefferson Memorial. The Air Force Memorial. All right there! I looked at Matt and he was grinning ear to ear. THIS was the experience he wanted to give his family. Matt knew all along that staying on the seventh floor would mean settling for far less than was possible.

As I laid down to sleep in that comfortable bed, God impressed upon me that I often settle for seventh floor experiences in my spiritual life, too. God has been there before and, like Matt at the hotel, knows what is possible and longs for his Bride and children to experience it all. But sometimes I’m tired from traveling, and I don’t want to expend the energy to go up any further. I pull back the curtains of my life and declare, “This is good enough.” And the Father sighs. Even though He could, He doesn’t force me to the higher floor. Instead, He simply extends the invitation and asks us to trust Him that it’s worth the trip. Is God asking you to go up higher? Imagine the view if you’ll just say yes!


0 Comments:

Post a Comment

Please Input your comments

Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]

<< Home


Powered by Blogger