To "Pull a Biddy," and Other Adventures

I’m recently returned from a trip in which I needed to “pull a Biddy,” to encourage myself.

I may be the only person who uses that term, but my family understands what I mean.

They’ve been living with the Biddy and Oswald Chambers story just as much as I have for the last four years!

But what does it mean and how do you use it?

Not to mention, where does the concept come from and why?

Definition and Source

To “pull a Biddy,” in our terminology means to choose to believe God is going to do something, despite appearances.

It means stepping out in faith.

Biddy stepped out in crazy faith many times in her life, as I recount in Mrs. Oswald Chambers.

To name just one incident, she married a man who explained at his proposal their home would be meager.

“With our lives going heart and soul into literary and itinerating work for Him. It will be hard and glorious and arduous.”

If that wasn’t sufficiently romantic, he added a postscript:

“I have nothing to offer you but my love and steady lavish service for Him.”

Biddy’s heart was tuned to God and she loved the man. She stepped forward into an extraordinary life with confidence.

(To be fair, without using the term, life with my guy required me to “pull a Biddy” many times during our marriage. I just hadn’t coined the term yet.)

What does it look like in 2017?

In my recent case, I was in a hurry and unexpectedly behind.

I’d misjudged when to leave for the airport and upon climbing into the car discovered I had no gas.

I also had to stop at the library.

My heart began to race.

The “what ifs?” threatened to overtake me before I’d even exited the driveway.

I had plenty of hurdles to jump before I even got to the plane–scheduled to depart in 2.5 hours.

My normal response would be to hyperventilate and worry all the way down the freeway, across a bridge, through a major city (where the traffic always snarls) and scream into airport parking.

Instead, I took a deep breath and said out loud, “I’m going to pull a Biddy. I’m going to believe that I will make the plane in time, no matter what.”

Driving down the road, I stayed in the speed limit and did not pass at every opportunity.

But the traffic was like a scene out of The Truman Show–trucks cutting me off, cars (not mine) darted in and out.

I turned off the podcast on my phone, deliberately did not turn on the radio and sang hymns.

For an hour.

Once or twice I darted a look at the clock in the dashboard, then decided to ignore it.

Perhaps God could arrange a Philippian transfer (as in the book of Acts)?

Is it Scriptural?

Would Biddy indulge in something not Scriptural?

I went to James 1:6:

 “But when you ask, you must believe and not doubt, because the one who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind.”

The sign at the usual traffic snarl advised a 20 minute drive to the airport–which would have me there at noon.

But I had to park.

I had to lug two 25-pound bags (full of Bibles) to the check in counter, go through TSA and find the gate.

“This is your trip, Lord. I’ll accept whatever comes.”

My heart rate sped up.

I took another deep breath.

“I’m going to believe you’ll get me there, Lord.”

I exited the freeway at noon. Which parking lot? Economy or hourly.

What a ridiculous question.

Economy, of course.

Was there a convenient parking spot?

Were you expecting one?

I grabbed the bags–neatly balanced in each hand–locked the doors and hurried across the wide parking lot.

Any sign of the shuttle?

Come on, do you really expect one?

My plane left in an hour, but those bags were so heavy. I couldn’t run, I could barely carry them.

“Okay, Lord, this is your idea. Can you send me an angel to help?”

A whole lot of people walked past without glancing my way.

But there, at Terminal One (of course my plane was at Terminal Two), I saw a savior.

Who cares if it cost $5!

I loaded the bags and ran!

At the terminal

I had to check in and check the bags.

Why would a machine be available?

Why wouldn’t I get tangled in the sticky baggage claim tag?

But there was no line and I deposited the bags in good order.

Mercy! I had pre-TSA boarding.

But I got in the wrong line.

I dropped my ID card.

The agent chastised me.

My bag got tangled in the machine.

However, they let me through.

I had twenty minutes to spare.

Laughter

Of course, my gate was the final one on the longest arm away.

Of course the latch didn’t work on the bathroom stall.

Who ever had the bottle fill water cooler not work?

I made it with five minutes to spare.

Sometimes we need to borrow another person’s faith to get us through tricky situations.

All I can say is, “Why don’t I pull a Biddy every time?”

Tweetables

Claiming Biddy Chambers’ faith to make a plane. Click to Tweet

How Biddy Chambers’ godly example soothed a traveler. Click to Tweet

Choosing to believe, like Biddy Chambers, simplified. Click to Tweet

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