Here

In Eugene Peterson's The Message, he paraphrases Ecclesiastes 3:13 like this:
'There's an opportune time to do things, a right time for everything on the earth: A right time for birth and another for death, A right time to plant and another to reap, A right time to kill and another to heal, A right time to destroy and another to construct, A right time to cry and another to laugh, A right time to lament and another to cheer, A right time to make love and another to abstain, A right time to embrace and another to part, A right time to search and another to count your losses, A right time to hold on and another to let go, A right time to rip out and another to mend, A right time to shut up and another to speak up, A right time to love and another to hate, A right time to wage war and another to make peace. But in the end, does it really make a difference what anyone does? I've had a good look at what God has given us to do—busywork, mostly. True, God made everything beautiful in itself and in its time—but he's left us in the dark, so we can never know what God is up to, whether he's coming or going. I've decided that there's nothing better to do than go ahead and have a good time and get the most we can out of life. That's it—eat, drink, and make the most of your job. It's God's gift."

I read these words in a new way this morning. I've been sitting in the library, trying to continue writing my book, which I began this Summer. It's not as easy as I thought it was going to be. At times, it can be isolating. Sometimes it's difficult to focus. Sometimes I feel compelled to delete every file that I've collected so far and start over. Sometimes, I wonder why I'm doing this at all. I wonder if I'll ever finish. I wonder if this is wasted time. I wonder if anyone will read it. But the words in this passage of scripture spoke to me this morning and gave me the comfort and perspective that I needed. I have no idea who's reading this, and those of you that are, I know nothing about your journey in life, and the specific paths you've taken. But you're human, and chances are, you've struggled with the same thoughts that overwhelm me this morning. I pray that it opens a door of hope with you as well.

Basically, my thoughts are pretty simple. I don't have a deep theological dissertation or a new idea of what God is trying to communicate. What rang true with me in these words is that God knows exactly what He's doing, each and every second of our lives. Regardless of the paths we decide to take in life, each one is the path that is ordained for us to walk down. Culture might classify your choices as "right" or "wrong", but what does that really mean when we are in perfect union with God? I firmly believe that if we remain connected to God in prayer and meditation, each and every life choice that we make is guided by Him through His Spirit and therefore cannot be narrowed down to a category of "right" or "wrong". My Dad often said that if we remain responsible in our decisions and pray about each choice, there are no "bad" choices. A specific decision may not be exactly what God had intended, but he still uses that choice for good and to advance His Kingdom.

Many of you know that I had a bad experience with the last church staff on which I served. I spent most of the Summer being angry with those that hurt me, and with God as well. I demanded God provide a reason for what happened, and begged Him for me to be vindicated. I questioned my decision to join this church, and questioned if God had even called me there in the first place. But just as I reached the pinnacle of confusion and frustration, God revealed to me that everything happened exactly as He had intended it. There was a "reason" for what happened, and I didn't need to know what it was. And I have found a peace with this realization.

So I sit here, in a dark corner of the library, banging on my laptop and knowing that there is a time to write and a time to serve on a church staff. There is a time to feel lonely, isolated and there is a time to enjoy company. There is a time for confusion and a time for clarity. There is a time for the wilderness and a time for shelter. There is a time for depression and a time for peace. A time for anger and a time for joy. There is a time to fall and a time to get up, but also a time to just lie there for a while. There is a time for each event in our lives that God sets into motion. And just like the seasons throughout a year, they often seem to be in complete conflict with each other. But they all work together in complete unity and reveal to us a simple truth: There is a time to trust God, and a time to....well...I guess that's it.

Disconnect

Last Sunday, I spent the afternoon in my kayak on Armond bayou. Sunday found me in somewhat of a fog, and after we got home from church, I felt myself slipping into a spiral of frustration and self pity. Sundays are always a little tough for me. When you work in the church, Sundays are always the busiest day of the week. I used to love Sunday, because it was as if the culmination of all the work from the week before was coming to fruition. I used to feel as if I was releasing all the love that God had been building up in me all week to the incredible people that I was blessed to minister to. I love the local church, but I have to admit: I do not look forward to Sundays as much these days.

So, before the spiral slipped to a point of no return, I decided to get out of the house. I glanced at the lawn. Usually yard work helps to clear my mind, but the length hadn’t reached that critical point, so I couldn’t justify pulling out the mower. I glanced at my running shoes. Running is always great therapy for me, but since I can only squeeze out about 30 minutes these days, it seemed like too quick a solution. Then I glanced at my bag of kayak gear. The thought of disconnecting myself from land seemed to be very appealing, and the thought of disconnecting myself from reality, if only for a few hours, seemed even better.

Armond Bayou is an amazing place. In the midst of our fast paced culture, it’s a sanctuary for animals, birds and the soul. Oh yeah; there are alligators too, and lots of them! But once you venture out a mile or so into the twists and turns of the various inlets, you cannot imagine that just over the tree lines lies suburbia. Without the sounds of cars, construction and everyday life, you hear each animal scuttle through the salt grass. Fish break the water and turtles slide off the banks as you glide past on the glass-like liquid that carries you along. It reminds me of climbing into your bed after a hard day and covering yourself up with your blankets. The outside world vanishes for a while and you create a new temporary reality.

There was a time in my life when I dreaded being alone. For me, solitude was isolation, and isolation was far too connected to loneliness. As a person who has recovered from severe depression, I can now see that being alone is not such a bad thing. The problem is not solitude in and of itself, but rather why we choose solitude. When you deal with depression, there are times when you feel isolated 24/7. It’s a great feeling to choose being alone, because you enjoy being alone.

The Bible tells us that Jesus often withdrew from the crowds of people that surrounded Him to be alone and pray. Luke 5:15 says that the news of what Jesus was doing was spreading so much “that crowds of people came to hear him and to be healed of their sicknesses. But Jesus often withdrew to lonely places and prayed.” There are two very significant points in this verse. One, Jesus’ popularity was growing at a very fast pace at this point. And two, Jesus still needed time to get away and immerse Himself in solitude.

I find it funny how the busier we get doing things for God, the less with we spend with God? And yet Jesus saw the importance of isolating Himself with the father, no matter how large the crowds were. And He saw this as an imperative; before the people smothered Him.

We dig deeper when crowds push in. We immerse ourselves within the waves of humanity, that rush overhead, and then wonder why be can’t breathe. Peace is found at the shore, waiting and watching for what God is doing in those that we minster to. I can see them. And they do just fine with my isolation. Jesus saw them as well, and yet after His time of solitude, He still confronted the Pharisees and healed a paralytic man. Pretty cool example.

"Kayak Solitude" - Watercolor by Judi McWilliams - www.judimcwilliamsfineart.com

I Am a Rock

As a kid, I grew up listening to folk music. Simon and Garfunkle, Bob Dylan, John Denver and Peter, Paul and Mary were standard sounds pumped though our “high fidelity” record or cassette player. Saturday mornings were always accompanied by my Mom cleaning the house, the smell of breakfast wafting from the kitchen and the sounds of 60s revolution in the background. As I rubbed the sleep from my eyes I did my best to drown out the sounds from the living room stereo. Usually that came from dueling sound systems as I assaulted my parents ear drums with anything from The Smiths to Black Flag. But well into my 40th year of stumbling through this life, I find myself looking back on those days with a comforting nostalgia.

Now that I’m older, I have a greater appreciation for these artists. In fact, I’m a huge Bob Dylan fan. One of the best days of my life was taking my dad to see his aging folk idol at the Houston Rodeo in 2002. Dad’s reaction? “Wow! He sucks in his old age!” But you know, when hearing these artists today, my mind quickly drifts back to a much simpler time. Last week, as I fumbled through the radio stations, I heard Simon and Garfunkle’s classic, “I Am a Rock”. As I hummed along, I was surprised that I actually knew all of the words. But for the first time, I caught myself really listening closely to the lyrics of this song and what the artist had to say.

“I’ve built walls, a fort deep and mighty, that none may penetrate. I have no need for friendship; Friendship causes pain. It’s laughter and it’s loving I disdain. I am a rock, I am an island…If I never loved I never would have cried…hiding in my room, safe within my womb. I touch no one and no one touches me.” Too bad they didn’t have Paxil or Effexor back in those days, huh?

As I wrote in my last blog, we all experience dark times in our lives. We all experience “the funk”. How familiar does this sound? You have a bad day at work, reprimanded by your boss and given a hard time by co-workers. On the way home, you’re pulled over for speeding and given a ticket. When you finally return home, the stressful reality of family life sets in with a greeting of screaming kids, clutter and a to-do list that looks more like a three page essay. At this point, the only thing you want to do is crawl under the covers and shut off for the remaining hours of the day. The thought of confronting anyone only makes you more frustrated. You don’t want to talk to anyone. All you want is isolation. “I am a rock.”

Jesus said in the gospel of Matthew, “Anyone who listens to my teaching and obeys me is wise, like a person who builds a house on solid rock. Though the rain comes in torrents and the floodwaters rise and the winds beat against that house, it won't collapse, because it is built on rock. But anyone who hears my teaching and ignores it is foolish, like a person who builds a house on sand. When the rains and floods come and the winds beat against that house, it will fall with a mighty crash." After Jesus finished speaking, the crowds were amazed at his teaching."

So, when I isolate myself in my pain, am I really a rock? Am I an island? Do I have no need for friendship because friendship will only cause pain? “Friendship causes pain,”. Hmmmm. You know what? I would have to agree 100%. Friendship does cause pain, and that pain comes from the responsibility of loving one another. But it’s worth the risk. “Love one another.”

(Art by Ben Davies-Jenkins. "Golden Isolation"; oil)