When we lived in India this was a phrase we heard frequently. Always from a very gracious Indian person usually to an annoyed foreigner like me, who was complaining that things were not the way I expected them to be.

Please adjust. Gently and politely and firmly suggested. And very much assuming you will.

The most vivid memory I have of it being said directly to me was when a friend and I boarded a train to go to a conference and found our seats taken by two very polite men. As I ranted and raved in true entitled colonialist fashion, they politely showed me two alternative seats that we could use, same carriage, same view, same direction. As my friend moved towards those seats, I heard a quiet “please adjust” and I realised that I was acting like a toddler demanding what I thought was mine when in fact “adjusting” was going to make no difference at all to my comfort or my day. So I moved to those seats, alternately embarrassed and challenged by what had just happened.

Please adjust

I’m a follower of Jesus. I have been since I was 13 years old. He’s taken me to lots of different places and through lots of different experiences. And all the time he has gently been saying “please adjust.”

We adjust our seatbelts to keep us comfortable while being safe on a plane. And recent events have shown us that they are of paramount importance to our safety. We adjust our rearview mirrors to help us see better when we’re driving and therefore drive more safely.

We adjust our belts sometimes because we’ve eaten too much and sometimes because we’ve lost weight. Either way it’s an important adjustment – loss of our trousers or skirt or tight discomfort.

God is saying to his church – Please adjust. The 21st century is a very different time zone to the 20th and before. And over the centuries my church has had to adjust. Now is no different. Keep your eyes on me but please adjust.

I like the mirror example. When we get in the car to drive after someone else has been driving it, if we don’t adjust the mirrors we can’t see to drive properly.

My husband is about 9 inches taller than me so when I get in the car after him I can’t even reach the pedals if I don’t adjust the seat. And all I can see in the inside mirror is the roof of the car and in the outside mirrors the sky. Adjustment is vital to my safety not to mention other drivers, passengers and pedestrians. In fact, it is pretty clear that if I don’t adjust I am being just a tad unwise.

Sometimes we can see why we need to adjust – like the seatbelt. But sometimes we can’t. Or we want everything else or everyone else around us to adjust. Not us.

The trouble is, sometimes adjusting costs. Sometimes adjusting makes us have to let go of what we think we know or want and look beyond. A bit like my experience on the train.

God doesn’t change. But the world does. And our own understanding of God and his world has to change.

Sometimes that’s scary. Will the God we always believed in be big enough? Will I lose my faith? What if this journey takes me to a place where I don’t have the answers or where I don’t believe anymore? Or a place where I’ve never been before?

All I can say from my experience is that God gets bigger and better and more loving than I could ever imagine.

Please adjust. It’s the least painful and the safest way to go with God to wherever he’s taking us.