Yard Work

Our home sits on a small plot of land with a relatively small front lawn and a wooded backyard covered with ivy. It’s easy ignore the woods and ivy and focus on the front, the part visible from the street, but I’ve recently decided to look at it all. It’ll be a big job, given the years of neglect, and it will require consistent effort over many months. As is so often the case, I can’t help but see the similarities between my home and spiritual landscapes.

Like my home, my spiritual life is not much, but it’s mine. There’s more than enough to keep me busy. There’s the side people see, and the other which is hidden. Too often, I’ve focused (unsuccessfully) on the part people see and ignored that other. “No one will see it” I’ve said to justify my apathy.

Addressing the dead trees, overgrown bushes, and incessant ivy at our house is a big job. Instead of trying to do what is needed in a weekend, I have decided to adopt the 12-step model of doing things one day at a time. I will take things slowly, but consistently. Eventually, I’ll make it from one end of the property to the other. It won’t be perfect, but I’ll make progress, and there’ll always be more to do. Still, it will be more than I’ve done.  

As I make my way through the work, I plan to think about the small, consistent steps I can take spiritually. There are dead trees, overgrown bushes, and pervasive ivy within me, as well. It’s a big job and it can fast become overwhelming, but taking it one step at a time, I can make my way through. 

In the end, there will be a clearing away and the possibility of new growth, which is all I can hope for.

Release from Captivity

My youngest daughter is taking a religion class in college. In anticipation of a test on the Old Testament (Hebrew Scriptures) this week, she asked me to explain it to her. A daunting task, I still looked forward to our time together. To prepare, I drew a diagram. (It’s what I do!) 

I knew, despite the early chapters of the Bible, it all began with the Exodus, the moment God delivered the Hebrew people from captivity. As I walked through the rest of the Bible, I saw deliverance from captivity was everywhere I looked. It seems to be what God cares most about. I found myself no longer thinking about my daughter’s upcoming test, but the ways I’ve been held captive in my life, as well as the countless ways God has sought to release me.

Captivity comes in all shapes and sizes. It can be found in a job that holds us in chains, a relationship that gives us little room to breathe. It can even be found in circles of friends that require certain norms to be considered worthy of membership. 

Our real captivity, however, lies deeper. Our real captivity lies within, not without. The need to be good enough, to feel lovable, are perhaps the thickest chains that bind us. No matter how hard we try to break free, no matter how many kinds of keys we put into the locks, we’re left, like the Hebrew people, to learn that there is only one who can release us from captivity. 

It’s all over the Bible, it’s all over my life, and I’m grateful to my daughter for giving me the opportunity to remember.

Christmas 2021: Being Found

I’ve had it all wrong for too long and in too many ways. When I heard about shepherds leaving their flocks and going to Bethlehem and wise men traveling months to find Christ, I thought I, too, should journey in hopes of finding God. Such thinking has led me to wonderful people and places; it has also led me to look in all the wrong places, as the song goes. What I didn’t realize until recently was that there is a fundamental flaw in such thinking. This year I am going to try to see and do things differently.

To search for God can lead one to think of God as some sort of possession or object. We go in search of God, and when (and if) we find what we are looking for we hold tightly. We lift the fruit of our search above our heads with the pride of a tournament champion. We cling to God with pride as if we are as precious as what (or who) we’ve found. In some cases, we even use it to bash others over the head.

I now see the arrogance of such searching. I can see how it becomes all about me, about the journey and effort I make, and has little or nothing to do with the God who is above all things, beyond all efforts, and surpasses all understanding. 

I’m going to change the posture of my spiritual journey this year. Instead of setting out to find God, I am going to let God find me. I’m going to open the arms of my heart and wait for God to come and complete the embrace. I am no longer going to look to a distant place or time, but look for God right where I am. I am going to try to resist the temptation to read too much, to stop conjuring up images of a God of my own making (in my own image) and let God come in whatever ways God chooses. Like a friend who says, “Okay God, I look forward to seeing how you show up in my life today” each morning, I’m ready to be surprised.

I know God is right here, right not. I know God is as eager for a relationship as I. I’ve just been too busy searching.