Give it a Rest

I am weird.  I opened at my store today - that's 4am - and yet here I am out to coffee again at 8pm thanks to Ang who is doing bedtime solo tonight with Olivia (Thanks!).  There is something about drinking a hot cup of coffee, listening to music, and losing myself in thought.  As I relax and allow my mind the room to stretch out, my heart begins to be drawn into another world.  I wander off to a place as beautiful as the sun setting across a sky littered with mountains and trees.  The music is like a - well normally its a sweet sound but right now its Barbara Streisand - WHAT!  How is this playing right now?  Well Plan B good thing I have some Death Cab for Cutie (they are not nearly as weird as their name suggests) on my computer - that's more like it.  I feel like its a place where my heart can breathe. 

In our world quietness is going out of style, right alongside rest.  As we cram more into our days and lives we end up with less, we lose the depth that life offers.  In a place with no talking, where I am left alone with my thoughts I am slowly lead out to a place of peace, of solitude, of rest,  It is often in this place that I sense the words of the Father gently penetrating my heart.  Loving, tender, honest words -the kind that resonate deep within and leave me changed, undone.  I feel like this when I have my flyfishing gear and I am out in the middle of a river, serenaded by the rushing water, so loud it blocks out every other noise.  The river's roar silences the noise in my life in a strange way - freeing me to enjoy the structured cadence of my casting and the way the fly slowly drifts onto the water.  When I fish, its rarely about the fish, its more often about the way that fishing quiets my insides, stills my soul, and molds my perspective into that of my Maker.   

Rest is critical because it creates space in our lives.  We are all too comfortable with no space, no time, no breathing room.  We live on the proverbial hamster wheel and seem all too at home there, running at breakneck speed through our life until something intervenes and forces us to stop.  I see it everyday at work- the stress, the frenetic frenzied frantic pace of peoples' days and I am no different, but it does make me wonder - for what?  For what purpose are we so consumed with activities?  What are we afraid of missing out on?  What are we afraid of seeing in ourselves if we take the time to stop and look?  Certain types of poetry and music function most precisely when natural rests are built in, breathing points, places to stop and allow truth, or beauty, or wonder to set in.  God rested in the midst of Creation.  Why can't I stop and rest?

 If some things are more beautiful with space, with breaks, with rest then I wonder if my life would be richer and more beautiful with a bit of the same medicine.  Maybe that's the way it was designed to be - I think I will give that a shot.

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A Walk and a Fight

Ang and I got in a fight the other day.  A fight for each other - not with each other.   The best kind of fight you can get into as husband and wife.  We talked a lot about dreams and about what stands in our way.  She, as always, was unwavering in her support of my dreams and hopes for the future, reaffirming her belief in me and in what my heart longs for.  I am amazed by her.  The journey of discovering your heart and connecting its longings is filled with potholes, obstacles and resistance - encouragement is essential along the way and she provides it in spades.  I am spurred on when I know someone believes in me.

We have been on this walking kick lately (I think we are trying to get out as much as possible before the winter rains set in) and it has been such a great chance for us to talk and discuss ideas and encourage each other.  It's not always easy to find time for those things as a new parent.  We have both felt pretty overwhelmed at times to the point where it's easy to lose track of things - especially your heart.   

As I alluded to in my profile, I am gradually beginning to uncover some areas of my heart that had been collecting dust for awhile.  Writing this blog is just one of my attempts to transform the dustbowl into a reservoir.  Neglecting my heart was one of the worst decisions I have ever made.  Our hearts function like a compass, pointing us in a direction, establishing a course for the days that lie ahead.  As I lost track of my heart I struggled to interpret the events in my life and soon was stuck in an existence mentality where days were meant to be "gotten through" instead of enjoyed.  Disconnected from my heart, I felt like I was drifting along until finally a deep and pervading space was undeniably prevalent inside of me.  The space just sat there, empty - it was the kind of void that can't be filled, save for the genuine longings of your heart.  I am still in the middle of the struggle to regain my heart - it is a daily battle - one void of any shortcuts or any attempts to fake.  As I draw nearer to the Author of all those yearnings and longings, the space is gradually replaced with hope, anticipation, dreams, creativity, trust, and a newfound awareness of the world around me.  I keep thinking I will arrive at some point soon - get to a place where I understand, where my world is full of clarity and where suddenly the puzzle begins to take shape.  I am just now beginning to wonder if perhaps that time is not going to come.  I think somewhere in the struggle to find my heart, I will begin fighting a different fight.  Now that I am rediscovering my heart - the new challenge will be to keep it alive.  I know of only one Way. 

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Path of Least Resistance

In physics, the path of least resistance is a rule that describes the movement of objects through a system.  We know this intuitively in that, water tends to want to travel downhill not uphill and electricity flows through a circut in a path where the resistance is the least.  I behave a lot like that most of the time - trying to find a path of least resistance - and I miss out on so much.

Our culture seems to define what is right or what is good synonomously with what is easy.  The idea that the path of least resistance is the best path for us to take simply misses the point of the journey altogether.  When I look back on the times in my life that have been richest, and most full of life - the ones where I have grown and been challenged, I notice that resistance has been an active participant every step along the way.  Resistance is critical to growth.  Anybody who strives to be in shape realizes this because our muscles are developed through overcoming resistance.  However, a longing exists inside of me to rest, to cease striving, to simply be.  My longing can be satisfied momentarily through a day off, a vacation, time with family or friends, or a chance to pursue a passion.  In the end though, the feeling keeps coming back manifesting iteself in statements like, "I'm exhausted", "I need a break", or simply, "I'm done,"  The true source of the longing is for not just a reprieve, but a cure.  The longing points towards a reality in heaven where everything but existing in the presence of our Maker vanishes.

I bring up heaven because until I put my longing in an eternal perspective it's meaning is difficult to ascertain.  Eventually, a path free of obstacles, hindrances, restrictions and resistance does await me - but that time is not now.  Now, what stares me in the face is a life ripe with resistance and the crazy thing is - its actually good.  Call it a trial, call it refining fire, you can even call it a trial by fire - but the truth is this resistance is meant to be embraced not avoided.   My journey abounds with resistance.  As Ang and I try to sell our house, as I try to sift through the fog surrounding my heart, as I try to understand what story my Creator has written for my life, as I try to understand what it means to be a father, a husband, a man - resistance is everywhere always trying to funnel me back towards ease of motion.  I have to actively engage the resistors that have been set before me because somewhere in that challenge is truth, somewhere in that challenge is life. 

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Crosswalks

"Everything changes when you have a kid."  I heard that so many times while my wife was pregnant as people shared their advice and wisdom for us before we set out on the journey of parenthood.  Boy is it ever true.  I don't think I have ever paid much attention to crosswalks before Olivia came into my life.  I would drive through them without much thought, roll through them as I turned right at a stoplight and even avoided them when I was crossing the street.  My relationship with crosswalks has forever changed. 


Walking downtown with Ang and Olivia last weekend, I clapped at a car that drove through a crosswalk that we were walking through.  It was completely illogical as I am not sure if I expected to create a sonic boom that would stop the 1 ton car in its tracks - I guess I was simply making a point.  Ang thought I was making a joke as she proceeded to clap at random cars for the rest of the day as the giggles overwhelmed her.  In fairness to her my clap (just one hard clap) was REALLY random especially since I aimed it at the passing car - no words came to me and I wanted to reach out and stop the car with one hand to remind the driver that I was pushing a stroller with my kid in it.  However, in the moment my hard clap felt like the right move. 


Just yesterday we were out taking a walk in the morning and on our way to get some coffee we came to a stop at the dreaded crosswalk.  My wife gracefully passed on the opportunity to remind me of "the clap" as it is now referred to in our home.  As we waited, 2 cars drove right past us.  I started wildly waving my arms,  as the third car approached and he managed to acknowledge me with a wave of his hand as he proceeded through the apparently invisible crosswalk.  Needless to say my frustration began to mount.  A fourth driver, completely oblivious to our family waiting for him to stop drove me to action - I one-upped my last attempt.   I waved my arms, yelled "CROSSWALK" and pointed to the crosswalk.  Ang turned bright red and chose to walk about 20 yards ahead of me as the car abruptly came to a stop.  I walked through the intersection feeling no shame, only an abiding sense of pride at accomplishing my feat of stopping the car so my girls could safely cross.  I smiled to myself.  Now Ang has two things that can make her laugh any time she thinks of them. 


I can't figure out why I care so much about crosswalks all of a sudden, but to deny my frustration would be dishonest.  I guess I now have a mission to fulfill - something has awakened in my man heart and I will ensure my family can always safely cross the street at the crosswalk.  I know. I am ridiculous :).   

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Seasons Changing

One of my favorite times of year is rapidly approaching...Fall. I love the beautiful colors and the cool crisp air that replaces the heat of summer. Fall is one of those times where I am reminded that death is just part of the cycle. As the vibrancy of green slowly turns to warmer hues of red and orange, I'm reminded of what follows. Winter always seems so barren, cold, rainy (especially here in Portland), and harsh. The days are short and the darkness long - I never look forward to winter.


My life right now mirrors these seasons as certain pieces are stripped away in accordance with God's plans and natural life processes, I know I will be left wondering what happened to the beauty that defined my life. The empty branches are a reminder, a promise of sorts that better things are yet to come - that life is always preceded by death. This is simply a plain truth. A seed falls to the ground, dying and eventually being laid open in the soil of the earth only to begin sprouting back up from the earth in a sort of cyclical dance.


Life is this way for all of us I suppose - its just I wish sometimes that my life was always about growth, about adding, about expanding and bulding on what has already been established. I strive stubbornly for this in every aspect of my life - relationships, work, spirituality - I fight the natural cycles because I don't see them for what they are. I lack faith and think that when the time for Fall comes that I may never see Spring again. However, Spring is beautiful in part because Winter is so barren. I want my life to always be like Spring time - God desires to take me through seasons. Seasons reveal things to me about me that I could never see otherwise.


When the leaves are stripped away I can see my life much more plainly - almost painfully so at times and I am reminded of those things I should cling to. I yearn to be faithful in all things and in all seasons, appreciating each for what it brings and each for what it teaches me. I think this Fall I shall learn more about myself as God removes the trimmings, lays my heart bare and then brings restoration and fullness of life in due time.

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Recovering Dreams

I have always considered myself a dreamer although lately my heart has been quiet. Lately I am more entrenched in "reality" which is just a more sophisticated way of describing my inability to imagine. Imagination has always served me well because it creates a space in my heart where the seeds of vision can germinate, drawing my life down a path where it intersects with opportunity. Call it divine intervention, making your own break, or simply chance - I believe opportunities occur when trust defines our hearts.

I fear my creativity and imagination have been stifled by duty and obligation - those things that suffocate our hearts. I caught myself saying "should" at least 15 times today - such a guilt ridden word. Fearing that I may fall prey to the hamster wheel mentality, I am setting out on a journey to rediscover my heart. I am amazed at how far I have strayed from my heart. I struggle to know what I desire, I find myself settling at every turn for the "lesser thans" and I hardly even recognize I am doing so until after the fact. I am equal parts discouraged, pissed off, confused and hopeful. The latter is finally beginning to gain some traction as I pursue those things that truly make my heart come alive.

As the layers of dust are slowly removed from my heart I trust that new vision will take shape inside me and that the dreams will return. Dreaming is scary business - it is so much easier to settle for something good than to strive for something grand. I am stuck firmly between the two. On the one hand I am content in my job - I am proud of what my team and I have accomplished and truly enjoy the people I work with and the customers I have come to know over the past 2.5 years. However, there is this constant tugging in my heart to rise to the occasion and pursue something truly great.

Having been disconnected from my heart I wrestle with what that something is - I am amazed at how I was taken out of the game so easily by a clever adversary who knows how to bend truth into deception. I feel like the awkward teenager at the school dance - wanting to dance, to have a good time, but not knowing if I am supposed to jump in and dance or wait to be invited. I think to myself, "just go for it," but confidence can't be fabricated and neither can faith - faith either overflows from the heart or runs dry. Faith will overflow once again, but first it needs some room to grow in my heart.

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Delight of My Heart

Delight. My heart sings this chorus every time I lay eyes on my little girl - it helps that she greets me with a crooked, toothless grin, her face creasing at the corners as she squints with an ever widening smile. Her smile joins forces with a squeaking, squealing greeting that draws a smile from deep inside - the kind that can't be taken away even in the midst of a challenging day.


The love I have for her was previously unknown to me - a love so inherent and unyielding. When I met her face to face for the first time, something shifted in my being and I knew that regardless of what transpired over the course of my life or hers, nothing could ever alter or stymie my desire to ensure that she would always know what it means to be loved. I hoped my love would provide a shelter and safe haven for her, a place where even if chaos permeated every aspect of her life, she could find safety in my love, find protection in my provision, and rest soundly knowing she will never lack or go without. I ache thinking of the struggles she will face and I glow knowing the heights to which she will soar. I know my thoughts towards her are no different than any other parents' towards their child, but they are extraordinary. Not because they are mine, but because of why I feel that way - its woven into the fiber of my being - down to my core.

Two weeks ago I had a thought that has marked me. I sensed my Father uncovering a forgotten promise, "I love you, just like that.". I wish I lived like I believed that - life would look so different. Nothing more to earn, no need to be perfect - just an invitation to be...loved.

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