Tonight I am thinking that it would be very easy to close this chapter on my life—the part where I care enough to put my thoughts on paper. Or on the internet or whatever.
It’s a valley season and I feel like I am am stuck in some sort of goo that won’t let me go. It’s that part of life where you have to dig real deep even to get out of bed in the morning in order to go to work. And like an accident, it probably could have been avoided had I read the road signs along the way.
But that is assuming that I even had my eyes on the road—that I wasn’t thinking about something or adjusting my CD player or talking with someone on the phone.
Life really is a effort sometimes and the tension between doing what you know is best and the path of least resistance is sometimes not even a part of the plan. Do I go swim at lunch time or order Huevous Rancheros at the local Mexican restaurant with my buddies. Do I go biking after work or go home and open a bottle of wine and let the evening roll smoothly off my palette.
I strive for a balance but either one or the other extremes generally wins out. When it’s the bike or the pool I feel more like life is under control—when it’s the wine or tv or mexican or chinese food I feel the slippery slope inching into my life. It is only a matter of time until I can almost hear the voices reminding me that I am getting older and really don’t have it all that much together. Not that those same voices are totally absent when I do the other. Nurture vs. Nature and all that stuff.
Be transformed by the renewing of your mind…comes to mind. Is that a road sign I almost missed. Could it really be that easy? Read the word and begin to believe that better things are just around the corner. Or am I sitting on top of those better times and don’t even realize it.
Yes…I have passed this way before and I am not really all that happy to be journeying here again. Much less use what precious time I have even discussing it.
Yesterday everything seemed so simple. Just do your best at work, give yourself to your family and church and enjoy the spring time in the mountains.
Life is a process of discovery. I like being upbeat and optimistic—but there is a part of me that can be negative and somewhat unforgiving towards myself.
The boat on the water analogy is somewhat appropriate it seems. When a storm comes along and knocks the boat off its familiar moorings it can be very disconcerting. Yet at the same time the storm might also get the boat out of the harbor and into the open sea where it can explore the rest of what’s out there to be explored.
Now I know in my life this dock was once the church or what I thought the church was supposed to be—the familiar dock or mooring. Sure, it needed a few repairs but I was more than up to the challenge—or so I thought.
In reality, the church doesn’t need repair so much as we need to find what it really was meant to look like in the first place—not what we have made it over the years. It’s sort of like that Matt Redman song that says:
I’m coming back to the heart of worship
And it’s all about You
All about You, Jesus
I’m sorry, Lord, for the things I’ve made it
When it’s all about You
All about You, Jesus
When I first heard that song several years ago I thought it really was that simple and it probably still is. Just get back to the main thing. What we don’t budget for is the fact that our enemy really doesn’t want us to leave the harbor and see the rest of the world. In a strange way he is really happy when we just hang around the old dock and occasionally put a new coat of paint on what we have built. We can take a couple of day trips occasionally but never lose sight of the familiar.
Most of the time I really do see that the boat is strong enough to take what the sea will throw at it and then some. Most of the time I feel secure in where the winds have taken me.
Right now I am going to find a scripture and head back to bed. Maybe today’s ride will be a better one.
“Now I know in my life this dock was once the church or what I thought the church was supposed to be”… this is the trap…we secure ourselves to the dock, it resembles Christ at some level, but the securing needs not be to the dock, but to Christ. We are the church, so to anchor to ourselves is in sense a vanity as we are all in process of becomming more like Jesus…He alone is the anchor of our souls. This is the work of our salvation that the Lord is perfecting, that we cut loose the cords that bind our hearts of security, identity, destiny and purpose to anything that we would secure ourselves to outside of Him alone. I’m coming back to the heart of worshipAnd it’s all about YouAll about You, JesusI’m sorry, Lord, for the things I’ve made itWhen it’s all about YouAll about You, Jesus It really is all about Him.
Just wanted to say I hear you. Been through many similar thoughts, more often in the first few years out of IC, than now. Melody’s comment is truth…being tied to the dock is not being fully anchored in Christ, though it will say of itself that such is the case. The assumption that one must be tied to the dock to have fellowship is a false assumption, but those who don’t want to leave the dock for whatever reason will insist such is true. Bless ’em. We will each be held accountable for what we have done with what we received.