Haven't added to this blog for awhile, partly because I'm still wondering which direction to take in my writings. Which also is the story of my life's journey in many ways: which directions do I take?
I'm a progressive minister, serving a small church in Tucson,Arizona; a church struggling to find its identity. In recent years there's some emerging clarity on where my identity may be hiding, but I'm still, in some respects, dealing with that question. Recently the realization has come that there's a need to lighten up considerably. This goes along with the realization that there's a God to trust and a direction to follow, not so much a need of trying so hard to hang on and control everything.
The story about the mountain climber comes to mind: A guy is mountain climbing and he comes to the edge of a small cliff. Suddenly the ground gives way and he starts falling, stopping himself only with the luck of a small tree growing out of the side of cliff. Hanging on for dear life he hears the word of God calling and telling him, "It is OK to let go, I have you." Whereupon he thinks for a moment and says, "Is anybody else up there?"
I've also been there, but arriving to the point where I could now say, given the same circumstance, "O.K., here I go," and then let go of the tree. Now that I've said that, there's still lingering fear, but also a sense of relief and acceptance. Hopefully no cliffs will give way in the near future to test this newly declared sentiment.......
So, as I try and figure where I'm going and where this blog is going, guess we'll just explore ahead together and see where we end up. It'll be an interesting journey...
Friday, May 23, 2008
Friday, May 2, 2008
Time to rest
Too often people fail to take time to rest and recharge, I'm guilty of that too...
However, earlier this week we set aside time to rest and regroup our thoughts. (Working over 50 straight weeks can test even the hardiest of soul's patience and sanity). There's something special about sitting on a porch at a cabin in the mountains looking down upon the ducks in the river and the hawks in the sky. Listening to the rythmic sounds of the water from the river coursing its way over the road and around the rocks, lulls you into a sense of calmness. Two days and three nights of no schedules, no demands, just you, your partner and time. Time to watch a hummingbird feed the young in her nest, to hear the sounds of dogs barking at the who knows what in the houses on the other side of the river.
At night you experience the sounds of the evening without traffic noise, airplanes or sirens-just you and the wind through the trees, lulling you into a tiredness that is natural, not born from exhaustion and fatigue. Taking a walk along the riverside without anything else on your mind opens you up to seeing seashells in the rocks by the river. That alone is not exceptional, until you realize the river is 5,000 feet up in the mountains of northern Arizona, thousands of miles from any current seas where such things are usually found.
When you come back into civilization, the trick is how to keep the feelings fresh and new, without getting sucked back into the routine of life too fast or too strong. Yes, there are things to do and take care of, but you try to do them maybe a little bit slower, maybe a little more serenely. Perhaps it will work, perhaps not; but the committment is made to never again wait so long to recharge the batteries and take time to rest.
However, earlier this week we set aside time to rest and regroup our thoughts. (Working over 50 straight weeks can test even the hardiest of soul's patience and sanity). There's something special about sitting on a porch at a cabin in the mountains looking down upon the ducks in the river and the hawks in the sky. Listening to the rythmic sounds of the water from the river coursing its way over the road and around the rocks, lulls you into a sense of calmness. Two days and three nights of no schedules, no demands, just you, your partner and time. Time to watch a hummingbird feed the young in her nest, to hear the sounds of dogs barking at the who knows what in the houses on the other side of the river.
At night you experience the sounds of the evening without traffic noise, airplanes or sirens-just you and the wind through the trees, lulling you into a tiredness that is natural, not born from exhaustion and fatigue. Taking a walk along the riverside without anything else on your mind opens you up to seeing seashells in the rocks by the river. That alone is not exceptional, until you realize the river is 5,000 feet up in the mountains of northern Arizona, thousands of miles from any current seas where such things are usually found.
When you come back into civilization, the trick is how to keep the feelings fresh and new, without getting sucked back into the routine of life too fast or too strong. Yes, there are things to do and take care of, but you try to do them maybe a little bit slower, maybe a little more serenely. Perhaps it will work, perhaps not; but the committment is made to never again wait so long to recharge the batteries and take time to rest.
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