I feel like my head has been spinning for two weeks – not demonically, per se, just with so much stuff. Some of it is an inevitable part of the end of the school-year: baccalaureate, graduation, writing test after test (and subsequently grading those tests…). But part of it I bring on myself: Yes, I’ll come! Yes, I’ve been wanting to see that movie! I haven’t been to a Red Sox game in ages.
I don’t regret for a minute any of the things I’ve said yes to.
Star Trek 2, from a sincerely un-knowledgebale non-Trekkie, was quite enjoyable. It was loud and action-packed, but the movie’s 3-D was a little painful for me. My eyes kept focusing in and out and I hadn’t thought to wear contacts so those huge 3-D glasses were competing with my regular glasses. The moment Benedict Cumberbatch started speaking, though, it was more than worth it.
The Red Sox lost, but we laughed and told stories and people-watched and I reveled in the history of that place.
Then Baccalaureate and graduation came, faster than I thought and far more emotional. I was surprised at my own internal involvement with this event, with the speakers, the students. Our headmaster spoke at the graduation, and it was a speech that will stay with me (not something I’ve ever said before, I don’t think).
Three questions: 1. What will you do? 2. How will you do it? 3. And with whose power?
It hit me because even though I don’t for a moment regret the way I’ve spent my time these past two weeks, I do regret the things I have let slip to the wayside.
One-on-one time with good friends I need to catch up with.
Chunks of time to do something – anything – like running, or yoga, or even walking.
I’ve prayed, but only surface-level prayers.
Thank you, God, this sun is beautiful.
And those aren’t bad. In fact, I think the regularity with which words to the Lord formed in my mind – even when I was on the run – is a good thing.
What I’ve been thinking about, though, is that I’ve lost the deep communion that is so vital. Vital to my relationship with the Lord, vital to my relationships with my family and dear friends, and vital to my own sense of wholeness.
1. What are you doing? Good and beautiful and helpful things.
2. How are you doing it? Pretty well, with minimal grumbling… 😉
3. With whose strength? Ummmm…
It catches me in the moments right before I fall asleep. You have not communed with your God. He is here, waiting, but you have rushed past him, laughing and happy, but missing that element of reverence.
God isn’t calling me to be less happy. He just wants to share in that happiness.
To have me pause long enough to be wrapped in His strength so I can continue rejoicing.
Now, as I prepare for church, I wonder how to hold these fun, laughing, blessed times with open hands. How to say Thank you and simultaneously invite the Lord to enter into this with me. How to do the good, helpful things I am called to do, do them well, and do them with the only strength that’s worth its salt.
2 Replies to “Good Things #7 An Invitation”
You know, I’ve been feeling something similar: that I’m missing the time and depths, and missing Christ being so much in and with me in all things.
May was a busy month. In some ways, it’s felt frantic. But this weekend I overheard someone say: “Christians are the most fun people, because they’re always learning and rejoicing!” and bam! it hit me – am I one of those Christians? Or one of the ones that scare people away?
I love that quote! I can say that I’ve felt that way about other Christians I know – I feel like the more we understand what God has done for us, the more likely that rejoicing is to flow out of us.