Repeat

Walks are thinking time (I'm pretty sure I've said that before).

A few nights ago I went walking through Riverside just because. Nothing was bugging me or needed to be thought through, it was just a walk for the sake of walking.

I found a neat little spot, one that looks over the golf course.

The sun was just going down and from my west-facing seat I watched the clouds play in the light of the setting sun, listened to the noises (summer bugs make super odd noises), and took a deep breath – then was sprayed by the sprinkler.

We can be too busy. 

Miss the small nuances of life, the veins of a leaf; forget to look at the sun setting by watching the sun but not seeing it. We don’t keep our eyes open.

In fact this has been a semester long theme for me. When I was India I kept repeating to myself, “Keep your eyes open.” When all I wanted to do at some points was close them (for sleep or because the site was too much. No. No keep ‘em open).

No. Don’t miss this. Don’t miss the God-ordained picture that’s painted right in front of your face. Don’t look through it to something else, see it for all it’s worth and let it inspire awe in the moment and the God who planned the moment and sustains it.

I don’t think this is self-help information, I think it’s just a practice to be used. Something that’ll point us to worship while at the same time helping us to see our business isn’t all we are.

Alone & Thinking of...

I was thinking the other day (I know odd, right?) about the word ‘alone’ (Man, when I say it like that I sound/feel like such a nerd.). We use it fairly often in descriptions of relational status’, who we’re not with, and other goodies such as, “The tree stood alone on the hill.” But the thought occurred to me while I was thunking, “We’re not ever really alone, strictly speaking.”

Really the idea came up ages ago from an old Youth Pastor, it was the first thing he told me when I conveyed my desire of being a pastor to him. He said, “Are you alright with being alone?” At the time I didn’t get it (quite actually, I still don’t think I get it.), but now it makes a little more since.

I don’t think he meant physically alone. Like, “Are you ok with being by yourself.” Nor do I think he meant it in the terms of the lonely-leadership syndrome. I really think he meant it like I mean it now to say, “Are you ok with being alone with God?”

You see that’s the issue. We’re not alone, there’s an omnipresent God around. But we’re not ‘ok’ with being just with him. Is this wrong? To some degree it is. When we’re constantly running from thing to thing trying to never be alone, then yes, yes this is wrong. But when the silence of the absence of others washes over us and we are alone with the Creator of the universe – that’s probably one of the best things to be doing.

So, here it stands, the question at the end of my thinking, “Why am I not alright with being alone with God?” The answers are long and various, but the simple fact-of-the-matter is this: my sin can’t stand him. Thus, it’s back to Jesus my saving Lord. Who makes me capable of knowing I need this omnipresent God and not merely that but causing me to feel love toward this ever-present Father.

The Thinker's Thoughts on Thinking

I sometimes wonder if I had more patience when I was younger. It’s probably nothing more than the romanticization of youth, but still, in some areas I think it’s true. Also, I used to not think much. That’s probably why I had more, “patience,” cause I had no idea what was going on and was fine with it.

But I think about crap so dang much. The meanings of words, the gestures of friends, the possibilities for anything, wondering if I could or should say or do or not say or not do or passively be nothing. It’s a constant wonder and process of decisions.

Is it fine to covet the ignorance of some? To crave to not wonder, or to not be a, “thinker?”

And yet, I seek my thoughts out. I desire time in them. To be swamped by the feelings and the view of lofty thinking – I think this is a sin for me. Being much to absorbed in my thoughts… and yet here I sit writing in my thoughts.

Indeed this is a gift, but it feels so much like a curse. But is it that a musician is only thinking about music when he is playing, surely not. Surely the melody of some distant tune is floating amongst his imagination and around his frontal lobe.

So here it stands, the discipline of thought. It seems quite reasonable to discipline oneself to not think just as much to discipline oneself to think. To be indifferent to the outside stimuli, to simply be, surely this must be true, for there is a time for everything.

Perhaps this is true, truer than I’ve thought possible. Perhaps there are times and areas of life where the constant thought is to be released for the simple beauty of our dearest friend which is Trust.

To merely – yes, merely – trust what will be to be and accept the simple facts of God-created reality.