I got my daily email from the Henri Nouwen society today. As usual, it had a snippet of Nouwen's writings. I received this one sometime shortly after I posted this morning, and was struck by how closely it applied to what I had written. So, here it is, for all of you to enjoy too.
Enough Light for the Next Step
Often we want to be able to see into the future. We say, "How will next year be for me? Where will I be five or ten years from now?" There are no answers to these questions. Mostly we have just enough light to see the next step: what we have to do in the coming hour or the following day. The art of living is to enjoy what we can see and not complain about what remains in the dark. When we are able to take the next step with the trust that we will have enough light for the step that follows, we can walk through life with joy and be surprised at how far we go. Let's rejoice in the little light we carry and not ask for the great beam that would take all shadows away.
Monday, January 09, 2006
Tiny Moments and Hallelujahs
I'm stuck on a theme of "tiny" at the moment. The tiny things I'm grateful for took up my last post. Today I'm thinking about doing life in "tiny moments."
I was sitting at church last night, and a friend popped over to chat with me. Around us, people were praying, but we were just catching up. What had been going on in our lives? What was God doing? Why was it a good/bad day? I like low key conversations like that. And Nolan asks good questions. Plus, he's a very intense listener, and that makes him a good conversational partner when you don't just want to make small talk.
So I was chatting with him, and sharing a little bit of my frustrations of the last week. How I've felt isolated in the middle of handling fairly major crises. How I'm tired because of the lack of sleep I've had the last while thanks to odd dreams and restless tossing and turning (usually induced by odd dreams).
And then I had one of those moments I usually only have when I'm writing. An "epiphany" type moment. Where I say something (or write it) and am then struck by the truth of it for that moment in my life. I heard myself say, "I'm breaking this into little moments. I can be on call 24/7 for today. And then tomorrow, I'll get up and I'll be able to do it again for that day." I talked about the fact that I tend to be a somewhat organized, control freak. I like to make my plans a week or two or more in advance. But right now, I could make plans for Thursday, and if a crisis came up, my plans would change. I have no choice but to exist primarily in the present moment.
The thing is, I'm pretty sure that God is calling me to some kind of formal ministry as a career. Not that I'm surprised, because we've been battling over that issue for years. But here's the deal, if I start thinking about the fact that the life I'm living in this moment could be a long term pattern for my life, I get overwhelmed. Fast. But, if I approach this in the tiny moment way that hit me last night, if I say "I can be on call for the next 24 hours," or "I can drop everything to care for you today," and then tomorrow, I get up and say the same thing, it's not quite so frightening. It's breaking a huge thing into tiny, manageable chunks, and I can do that. Yes, it requires me to surrender, to set aside my need to control my schedule, but I can do that for a day at a time. I'm still making longer-term plans, but I'm more willing to see them change if necessary.
It's been crazy, this season. Learning to focus on someone else. To let their needs come first. I have been learning over the past six or eight months what a selfish, inwardly focused person that I've become. The longer I was depressed, the more focused on myself and my own problems I became. And now, my time is consumed many days with someone else. Because she needs me right now. My thoughts and prayers are more often about her, and less often about railing at God for my depression, my hurts. And it has required tiny moments, because they are all that is certain.
And one last thing. I am continuing to learn "hallelujah". I am learning what it means to pray "glory to God" in the midst of some of the messiest situations I have ever encountered. The first time I heard God say to me "pray hallelujah" I just about fell over, because it seemed to be the least reasonable thing to pray for that situation. I actually asked a friend if I could possibly be hearing God correctly - only a single word, and it was "hallelujah"? But God kept saying it, and I am trying to be obedient. Last night at church, the chorus or bridge or something (can you tell I'm not a musician?) to one of the songs was simply the word "hallelujah". And my heart leapt. And I sat there and soaked. Because it was so true. "Glory to God."
Glory to God in the mess that is the life of my friend right now. Glory to God in the wounds that I am facing in these days. Glory to God in the changes I see in my life. Glory to God in the lives of the others I am lifting before Him. Glory to God in my frustrations with my family. Glory to God in the lives of my coworkers and friends. Glory to God in my writing. Glory to God in the decisions I need to make about my future. Glory to God in illness and in health. Glory to God in the tiny moments and in the long term plans. Hallelujah.
I was sitting at church last night, and a friend popped over to chat with me. Around us, people were praying, but we were just catching up. What had been going on in our lives? What was God doing? Why was it a good/bad day? I like low key conversations like that. And Nolan asks good questions. Plus, he's a very intense listener, and that makes him a good conversational partner when you don't just want to make small talk.
So I was chatting with him, and sharing a little bit of my frustrations of the last week. How I've felt isolated in the middle of handling fairly major crises. How I'm tired because of the lack of sleep I've had the last while thanks to odd dreams and restless tossing and turning (usually induced by odd dreams).
And then I had one of those moments I usually only have when I'm writing. An "epiphany" type moment. Where I say something (or write it) and am then struck by the truth of it for that moment in my life. I heard myself say, "I'm breaking this into little moments. I can be on call 24/7 for today. And then tomorrow, I'll get up and I'll be able to do it again for that day." I talked about the fact that I tend to be a somewhat organized, control freak. I like to make my plans a week or two or more in advance. But right now, I could make plans for Thursday, and if a crisis came up, my plans would change. I have no choice but to exist primarily in the present moment.
The thing is, I'm pretty sure that God is calling me to some kind of formal ministry as a career. Not that I'm surprised, because we've been battling over that issue for years. But here's the deal, if I start thinking about the fact that the life I'm living in this moment could be a long term pattern for my life, I get overwhelmed. Fast. But, if I approach this in the tiny moment way that hit me last night, if I say "I can be on call for the next 24 hours," or "I can drop everything to care for you today," and then tomorrow, I get up and say the same thing, it's not quite so frightening. It's breaking a huge thing into tiny, manageable chunks, and I can do that. Yes, it requires me to surrender, to set aside my need to control my schedule, but I can do that for a day at a time. I'm still making longer-term plans, but I'm more willing to see them change if necessary.
It's been crazy, this season. Learning to focus on someone else. To let their needs come first. I have been learning over the past six or eight months what a selfish, inwardly focused person that I've become. The longer I was depressed, the more focused on myself and my own problems I became. And now, my time is consumed many days with someone else. Because she needs me right now. My thoughts and prayers are more often about her, and less often about railing at God for my depression, my hurts. And it has required tiny moments, because they are all that is certain.
And one last thing. I am continuing to learn "hallelujah". I am learning what it means to pray "glory to God" in the midst of some of the messiest situations I have ever encountered. The first time I heard God say to me "pray hallelujah" I just about fell over, because it seemed to be the least reasonable thing to pray for that situation. I actually asked a friend if I could possibly be hearing God correctly - only a single word, and it was "hallelujah"? But God kept saying it, and I am trying to be obedient. Last night at church, the chorus or bridge or something (can you tell I'm not a musician?) to one of the songs was simply the word "hallelujah". And my heart leapt. And I sat there and soaked. Because it was so true. "Glory to God."
Glory to God in the mess that is the life of my friend right now. Glory to God in the wounds that I am facing in these days. Glory to God in the changes I see in my life. Glory to God in the lives of the others I am lifting before Him. Glory to God in my frustrations with my family. Glory to God in the lives of my coworkers and friends. Glory to God in my writing. Glory to God in the decisions I need to make about my future. Glory to God in illness and in health. Glory to God in the tiny moments and in the long term plans. Hallelujah.
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