Adrift

Six months . . .

Six months is a long time to be silent.  It has been six months since I last wrote a blog.  That is a long time . . . in the blog-o-sphere that is death warrant certain to kill one’s readership; but, it has been six months since I last wrote a blog.

For a long time I thought that the cause of my silence was a “writer’s block”.  Every writer goes through a writer’s block . . . it is a part of the “gift” of being a writer . . . or, as in my case, the desire to be a writer.  Yet, in the end, I have determined that it is not a “writer’s block”.  No, in the past six months I have written quite a bit . . . just not on this blog.  I have written a sermon for each Sunday since I quit writing on the blog . . . and, in my humble opinion, many of those sermons were quite worthy.  If anyone would like to check them out they can go to this LINK.  For those keeping count, that is approximately one sermon a week for nearly 24 weeks . . . nope, the writing was still.  I also wrote a weekly column for my church’s weekly digital newsletter . . . that is another 24 entries into the world of writing.  If you are interested in reading any of those you can subscribe to the newsletter—which is free—at this LINK.  Apparently whatever the cause of my silence on my blog for six months really had nothing to do with “writer’s block” . . . Shoot!  I was averaging two blog-length writings a week during that time.  Writer’s with “writer’s block” do not crank out sermons and columns . . . no, they bang their heads against the wall.

“Writer’s block” cannot be blamed for the writer’s silence . . . no, I think it has been something deeper . . . something below still waters.

I think that I am going to blame it on being “adrift”.

Let me explain.  In the past year I have read two books by a Billings author named Craig Lancaster . . . 600 Hours of Edward and Edward Adrift.  As I guess you can determine, the two books were about a character named Edward.  Edward is quite a character . . . a frustrating one . . . especially in the first book.  Edward is an individual who is on the autism spectrum . . . and, both books are written from his perspective.  If you know anything about autism you will understand what I am attempting to convey about the style of the book and its main character.  If you can get beyond the quirkiness of the main character’s disability, the books are well worth the time and effort.  They are both excellent stories.

In the first book, Edward is dealing with life . . . basically six hundred hours of his life . . . about a month in his life.  Order and ritual is a fundamental foundation of his life . . . routine is his anchor . . . everything in its place, everyone in their role . . . and, life is good.  In the first book this begins to fall apart . . . Edward crumbles . . . things change.  In the second book, the crumbling of his life continues and suddenly nothing makes any sense to Edward . . . he is adrift.  Then he gets a call from his ex-neighbor to come and help them with their son . . . a son who has gone adrift in the move to a new city and life.  From there the adventures begin as Edward attempts to right the boat, end the drifting, and get his life back.  It is quite an adventure.  To really understand the story I encourage you to read the books . . . it will be worth your time.

Bottom line . . . Edward’s life is turned upside down when all of the anchor points in his life are destroyed.  They are destroyed through the death of his father, the neighbors moving, his mother being gone half of the year, and losing his job.  Nothing is as it was before . . . everything has changed . . . changed when Edward thought he had it all figured out.  Someone upset the mobile, and now it was spinning uncontrollably.

I really identified with Edward in Edward Adrift.  I could identify with his fear . . . his frustration . . . his anger . . . his sense of loss . . . his sense of being afloat in a vast sea with no way to direct his vessel to a place of safety . . . a place of belonging.  For a while now, I have felt adrift . . . adrift in life.

I am not sure that that much in my life has really changed . . . things are still just as hectic as they have always been.  That is my life.  Yet, I feel adrift . . . lost out in sea.  I am not sure if there is any one area of life that I can pinpoint as the main culprit . . . I mean, my life is going on pretty much as it always has; yet, I feel adrift.

And, maybe that is the problem.  I am all over the map when it comes to my life.  Mine is a life of many hats . . . I am a father with six children (four children and two of their spouses) . . . I am a grandfather of four grandchildren with two of them living in other states . . . I am a spouse . . . I am a preacher of a church, a nice church . . . I am an employee at one of Montana’s universities in which I wear three different hats (of which each hat represents a full-time job) . . . Plenty to keep anyone busy 24-7-365!  I am here, there, and everywhere!  Some days I have to stop and think about where I am and which role I am in.  And, within each of those roles there is plenty that is up and down, high and low, and spinning out of control.  It is hard to set anchor when one is roaming all over the map.  Nothing seems connected . . . nothing seems related.

As a follower of Jesus . . . as pastor . . . as a child of God . . . I believe that my task in life is to discover who it is that God created me to be.  It is in that that I truly believe I will find my anchor . . . that I will find my home . . . that I will no longer be adrift.  I believe that God calls all of us . . . all of God’s children . . . to that goal. I think that that is the key to faith and living life as God wants us to live.  We are supposed to love others as we love ourselves, but if we can’t find ourselves . . . well it is hard to love ourselves . . . it is hard to love others.  Most of us spend our lives “adrift”.

I guess it is a matter of congruency . . . a matter of living one’s life in accordance with who God created him or her to be.  The tough part is figuring out who God created him or her to be.  That is where one is “adrift”.  There is not a whole lot to say when one isn’t too sure who he or she is . . . when one is “adrift”.  Sometimes the silence can be deafening.

There comes a time when one becomes tired of trying to stay afloat . . . tired of drifting aimlessly . . . tired of the silence.  There comes a time when one has to cry out against the silence . . . even if it is to only hear his or her own voice . . . a time to quit drifting.  I am not sure if it has been the events of the past couple of months . . . or the past couple of hours; but, I have come to a point that in which it is time to begin.  Time to begin to discover that which is my center . . . my heart . . . my anchor . . . my home . . . and, who I am.  Time to begin living as God created me to be.  Time to quit drifting.

So, I step forth boldly . . . okay, in all honesty, I step forth timidly . . . to begin the process of being congruent . . . of being balanced.  In the end, that is what we are called to and what we are striving towards.  Life is fragile.  Life is scary.  Life is hard.  Writing has always been a place where I have been able to wrestle with life . . . wrestle with the “big” questions . . . wrestle with God.  In silence there is nothing . . . oh, sure, there is prayer and discernment . . . but, there is no conversation.  I am ready for conversation . . . with myself . . . with God.  I am ready to come home.  I am ready to welcome myself.  I imagine it will be just as hard to endure as the silence of being “adrift”.

Confession is good for the soul.

Let the conversation begin.  In Edward Adrift the hero, Edward, realizes that one has to paddle towards the unknown . . . one cannot stay “adrift”.  He also realizes that there is an uncertainty in moving in any direction, but that that is better than floating aimlessly “adrift” in the sea of life.

I am not sure where I am going exactly . . . but, I know I cannot remain “adrift”.  Into the unknown I will venture . . . who knows where I will end up!

You Know Who You Are

I recently stumbled upon a bunch of quotes that came under the heading, 30 Thoughts That Every Introvert Has Had.  If you are an introvert, you will appreciate these quotes.  I am not really sure who the individual was who found all of these, but I imagine that he or she probably banged them out on the computer from the safety of their home . . . alone . . . in a semi-lit room . . . alone.  I felt a kindred spirit to the words and whoever the individual was who shared them.

“Clothes don’t make the man, the ability to stay at home for long periods of time watching Netflix makes the man.”  I am not sure that I agree with this one . . . I don’t watch much of anything (until college football kicks off, and then only the University of Nebraska) on television or my computer.  I agree that “clothes don’t make the man”, I am not much on dressing up . . . I am who I am no matter what I wear.  If I were to wear nice, fancy clothes . . . well, I’d still be an introvert who wears nice, fancy clothes that no one ever sees.  I do like staying at home for long periods of time . . .

“True love is never dropping in unexpected.”  I hate it whenever someone drops in to the homestead unexpectedly.  I am not prepared.  I haven’t take anything to dull the pain yet.  Makes me anxious.  Usually I stand at the door (screen door still closed) and talk to the invaders . . . usually small talk and “what do you want?” talk.  The wife, who is an extravert, stands behind me poking me to let them in . . . it is party time!  Not me . . . if you want to be my friend, do not drop by unexpectedly . . . call first . . . at least a week in advance.  Give me time to get ready for the invasion.

“You can lead a horse to water, but you cannot make him socialize with the other horses.”  Ask the wife . . . she will verify this one.  Ask the people I work with at the university . . . they will verify it too.  They all know that if there is somewhere to go with a lot of people I do not know . . . well, the bubbly, vivacious John they all know and love won’t be there.  He will be hiding in some corner hoping like hell that no one comes near him to start a conversation.  You might take me to the party, but I sure won’t be remembered as being the life of the party . . . odds are I won’t even be remembered.

I had to laugh at this one: “The only problem with seeing people you know is that they know you.”  People who know me . . . well, they can’t just say “hi” and move on . . . noooooooooooooooooo, they want to stop and speak.  Just what any introvert wants to do.  Now, I was raised to be cordial and greet people when I pass them . . . you know, things like “hi” or “how are you” . . . just being nice.  Why is it when I am being nice to people they think that it is an invitation to talk?  I am learning to walk with my head down . . . or, if I see someone I know before they see me, I cross to the other side of the street or duck into an alley.

“Misery loves company, so avoid people.”  I don’t know too many people who enjoy misery . . . and, it seems that whenever two or three people are gathered, someone spills the milk.  Misery ensues.  As an introvert it seems that it is best to just avoid people . . . avoid small talk, but mostly avoid people.  Which doesn’t really bother introverts because we know: “You can never be truly bored, so long as you have yourself for company.”  Hey, I am my own best friend . . . and, I like myself most of the time.  Life couldn’t get any better . . .

The reality, though, is that short of being a hermit, you cannot avoid people.  Seems that there are people everywhere a person goes . . . even in Montana!  This is a sad fact that we introverts have to accept . . . no matter how hard we attempt to avoid people, people are going to be a part of our lives.  We introverts have come to accept the fact that “No man is an island, unfortunately.”   Thus we introverts put a whole lot of stock in our instincts to weed out those people who we do not like . . . do not want to hang out with . . . and, it is a tedious and long process that takes a while . . . a long while.  It would be nice if we could like people from the first time that we meet them, but that is asking a lot.  As one of the quotes stated: “Liking a person on the first go is the closest thing there is to a miracle.”  As an introvert I have not experienced too many miracles when it came to liking people at the first meeting.

“In unity there is anxiety.”  Crowds make me anxious . . . can’t control them . . . they are unpredictable . . . and, they invade my space, trample on my privacy, lay waste to my little kingdom.  Now, I am all for one and one for all, but on my terms.  Because I don’t like crowds I do not enjoy going to the movies . . . movies are like going to the stockyard and being herded into the theater.  I want to “moo”.  So, I take the advice in the next quote: “When in doubt, don’t go out.”  The wife does not like this one . . . she’ll say, “Let’s go do something” . . . and I will stammer around for hours trying to avoid going out . . . there are lots of days when she just doesn’t even ask.

Of course, people want to know . . . what is that guy’s problem?  Is he a little off course?  Is he anti-social?  No! NO!  I am just an introvert.  As an introvert I get tired of explaining to people what that means . . . over and over again.  I get tired of trying to tell people that it is just a preference.  They don’t get it when I tell them: “It’s not hiding. I’m recharging my creative juices.”  Also, “Less time spent with others, means less time suffering through small talk.”  Small talk kind of cuts into the recharging of creative juices . . . sort of like someone dragging his or her finger nails down a chalk board.  I just don’t understand why people don’t understand it.

I loved this next one because I have often done this dance.  “Get in and get out.  Get in and get out.  Get in and get out.”  It is a dance introverts know well . . . I do it whenever I go to Wally World, the movie theater, restaurants, and any other place where people gather to be social.  It is the introvert’s two-step . . . we just need to put it to music and sell it.  Of course, no one else hears it but the introvert.

There were others, but these are the ones I resonated with the fastest . . . the ones that brought a smile to my face . . . the ones in which I wanted to proclaim, “Heck yes!”  If you are an introvert these quotes will probably resonate with you too.  If you are an extravert . . . well, good luck.  You won’t know what any of them mean; but, being the extravert that you are . . . ask an introvert and they’ll explain it to you.  That is if you can find an introvert.

You know who you are . . . keep quiet, avoid people, and remember, “The best things in life are silent.”   

Sounds of Silence

One of the most difficult parts of being a person of faith has been discerning the will of God . . . understanding God’s will for my life.  I firmly believe that God created me for a purpose . . . for a reason.  That I am unique in what it is that God wants from me . . . just as I believe that God created each of us for a certain purpose.  And, I believe that God calls me to be who God created me to be . . . in that way, I reach perfection.  That is the journey of faith . . . to be all that God created me to be.  It just would have been nice if God gave me a book of instructions to follow in getting there.

Yeah, I know . . . the Bible is that instruction book, but I think you know what I mean . . . I wanted the specifics . . . the step-by-step details: after all, I am human and desire the easiest path.  But, no . . . God did not make it that easy.  Instead God has decided that the it would be best if I—we—learned the fine art of discernment.  The problem with discernment is that it is not easy . . . it is never, ever, easy.  Even at my age, I have not yet mastered the art of discernment.

Mythologist Joseph Campbell stated that if an individual found his or her bliss that there was his or her purpose.  What he did not say, or maybe he did and I just wasn’t listening, was that sometimes that purpose is not what the individual wants to do.  That he or she struggles against that purpose despite all the signs pointing to a perfect match.  That he or she does not see him or herself in that role . . .

How does one respond to the voice of God when one is not sure that he or she wants to listen?  As we enter into Holy Week we are reminded that Jesus struggled with God’s will . . . he prayed in the Garden of Gethsemane and finally declared, “Not my will, but thy will be done.”  Peter, too, struggled with his love and allegiance to Jesus, and in the end, denied Jesus three times.  Responding to God’s will is not always a neat and clean process . . . nor is it quick.  Peter later redeemed himself . . . but not before realizing what he had done.  I think that most of us are somewhere between the two . . . I know that I am.

It has been said that hindsight is 20/20.  I would agree.  Looking back over my life I have determined . . . no, discerned . . . that there is a fairly clear path that God has called me to trudge down.  The ministry is a part of that path.  From a young age, when I had to write an essay about what I wanted to be when I grew up, ministry was on the list.  I had to pick three occupations or careers . . . I chose the military, teaching, and not being able to think of anything else, I chose ministry.  No, I was not drinking in the fifth grade!  It was a whim to get the assignment done.  Several decades later, I am about to celebrate my 30^th anniversary of being ordained into the ministry.  More than 50 percent of my life has been as a minister . . . I am probably where God wanted me.  Yeah, the whim became the call.

The other call upon my life is one that I have tried to ignore . . . that is in the area of disabilities.  Having grown up in a family with siblings with disabilities and witnessing the crap they endured . . . our family endured . . . the second class (if that) they were placed in . . . I was determined not to fall into that trap.  Then I had children with disabilities . . . went through the same crap . . . watching them be thrown into a lower class than everyone else . . . I was even more determined not to hop into the fray.  Yet, surprisingly my voice is strongest in this area despite my efforts to not jump into the fray.  Instead of wholeheartedly embracing this call upon my life, for the most part, I stand back and remain silent.

Richard Bach used the term “reluctant messiahs” in his book Illusions: The Adventures of a Reluctant Messiah.  Basically he was referring to the fact that often people do know and understand their purpose in life . . . God’s call upon their life . . . but chose to either ignore it or to step into it with reluctance.  To use my father’s phrase, to do it half ass . . . with, reluctance.  I understand that . . . I understand that because I dabble in the second half of God’s call upon my life . . . to be an advocate for those who are disabled.  More often than not, I stand in silence.

It is only with reluctance that I step into the fray . . . only when I am dragged into the discussion . . . into the fight.  It is only when it affects someone I love, someone I care about, that I get involved.  Otherwise, I remain silent.  Silence does not get the job done.  Silence does not solve the problem.  To remain silent is to ignore the voice of God . . . it is to refuse God’s will . . . it is to refuse to be whole and holy.  That is the sucky part of discernment.  To know God’s will and to refuse to participate.  The sounds of silence are deafening . . . they kill.

Ministry is a part of God’s will for my life . . . I do it well enough.  But, as I have said for many, many years, I am not sure the ministry I do is the ministry that God desires me to be involved in.  That ministry, in my mind, involves working and advocating with those who have disabilities and their families.  As much as many will doubt me, I know that this is a population that is overlooked, ignored, and on the brink of being eliminated . . . even within the church where all are supposed to be welcomed.  I hear God knocking on the door, but it is only with reluctance that I even crack it open when I do open it.

Shame on me.

In Nikkos Kazantzakis’ book, The Last Temptation of Christ, it begins with Jesus running from an unknown stalker.  Jesus can hear the footsteps behind him.  Though he acts as if he does not know who the stalker is, he does—it is God.  Jesus tries to run, but he cannot escape.  In the end, he gives in to God’s will . . . the journey and ministry begin.  The bottom line is that we can run, but we can never escape God’s will . . . God’s purpose for us.  That is another part of the suckiness of discernment.

So, I stand in the sounds of silence . . . the day will come when I can run no longer . . . then God’s will will be done.