Storms

  As I was driving today, it was one of those rare occurences where the sky beyond the windshield is light and beautiful, and yet one look in the rearview mirror confirms that storms are chasing you forward, that darkness lingers behind and rains will soon be upon you.  Up ahead, one might think the weather is perfect, yet you're driving a little faster, hoping to make it to your destination before the storms overwhelm.

  Life's often like that, isn't it?  We've got our foot firmly planted on the gas pedal, all the while one eye is on the rearview mirror, and we're just hoping to escape whatever is coming.  We feel as though the storms are chasing us and it's all we can do to stay ahead of the pursuing chaos.

  As a result, how often do we ever slow down, stop, and plan for the future?  How often do we think about who we are growing to be, about the kind of person, the type of disciple, we are becoming?  This type of forward thinking is often the first thing chucked out the window to lighten the load so that we might accelerate faster and outrace the stormclouds.

  I am just as guilty of this type of critical-needs thinking as anyone else, but I am also weary of it.  I'm worn down by simply surviving, by doing enough to get by.  I do it at home, and in the church, just getting by, week to week.  Several weeks ago, a friend introduced me to a book called Sacred Listening.  It's basically the Ignation exercises for protestants, a guide for walking with God, each and every day, with some structure.  It's demanding, in terms of time and attention.  It asks a lot.  I am often guilty of promising more than I can give to structured prayer ideas.  But I want to be formed as a disciple--I long for my faith to grow, rather than just maintain.  My heart wants to be in communion with God.

  This is my effort, my attempt, and while I will certainly fail at times, I hope that I will grow to be a man who prays without ceasing, who loves without condition, who serves without expectation.  I hope to look forward, that I might not simply function, but thrive as a child of God, and grow into the man Christ longs for me to be.