Thursday, May 17, 2007

classical

Tonight in the car ride, flipping radio stations, driving I suddenly realized I wasn't flipping stations anymore.

I was listening to classical music.

Perhaps not actually listening, but there I was paused on that one part of the radio dial that we all know about and none of us really talks about.

Tell me that you've never been fascinated that these radio announcers seem to be able to distinguish between Marchozi and Stradovous (names that may not actually exist in the realm of classical music). This is a skill.

As I said, I'd paused and -- really -- "paused" is the best word for it. But this isn't the first time I've paused on this part of the dial. It seems that every time that I'm mentally filled to the brim and in my car, I find myself on some station that has no words for many minutes at a time.

It's the closest you can get to silence without actually turning the radio off.

Once I realized what was hitting my ears and I realized it was part of a pattern I wondered if there might be some deep thoughts to draw out of it.

There are.

But I think sometimes my deep thoughts, especially in this forum, are disguises for the stories that made them. Many times, as raw as my journaling is it still isn't completely transparent.

I think somewhere in the drive two and from my parents house there are a few stories about how the sign on the back of a semi can be a spiritual warning or how good it feels not to try to race that Mustang in the left lane. There's probably something about how amazing it is that I could find myself tearfully worshiping God in a Keith Urban song, or for that matter Quietdrive's version of "Time After Time." There's all sorts of support for Romans chapter one (as if it needed support)

But right now I am dealing with the reality of stress and a lack of peace. There is almost no empty space. I know how valuable prayer is, yet I don't pray much at all. I'm realizing that I am addicted to money, not as success, but as the ability to be in control of my situation. I aware of anger and the fact that I really need to pause. I need some silence. I need the room I preach about.

My finger knows this. My ear knows this. They conspire against me and pause on classical stations.

posted by Scott # 10:37 PM 0 comments

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

Then it sprouts...

I've been really anxious lately. There is a long list of things to do and it means that some things have to get put off. Good things. Things worth doing, but things that can't be done RIGHT NOW: The power steering leak has to be fixed. I should sand that. What was that thing I was going to write down? Call Charlie.

So these things get scheduled or planned (yes, there's a difference, I've discovered): I'll do this on Wednesday evening and that has to happen at lunch today. Then if I can get that done, I'll be able to do this other thing, but I need money first so I have to wait for payday which is Thursday so...

Not a whole lot is happening "now". "Now" all I'm doing is thinking about "it". "It" isn't getting done and you know what happens if "it" doesn't get done. Not a whole lot, which as I said is what is happening "now."

This is where I reluctantly bring up prayer. Reluctantly because I [sigh] am very weary of being told to pray. We offer "prayer" to one another so flippantly sometimes that I can at once be saddened and offended when someone tells me "you should pray about that." There are lots of books written about it. A few are actually good. Most are poorly written and try to change by manipulation and coercion. And what you end with is often simply more of what you started with.

For example there's the prayer where you list everything you need and walk away and that really doesn't work. I mean, perhaps what we ask for happens and perhaps God is the one making that happen. You get what you wanted.

But if you dance long enough it always rains.

I don't want to condemn anyone's hearts in writing about prayer. But if you start with a list of reason's to pray or steps of how to pray is it unreasonable to expect that you're going to get people praying with lists and steps. We are bearing the fruit we're planting.

Still, I bring up prayer despite my reluctance because of what happens when I actually pray: when I step outside the cycle of frantic inaction and hectic, impotent striving and...

I am.

When is it that I connect with the Living God as a Father; as someone that loves me?

When is it enough? When can I stop and believe that even if I don't get it done or sell this or make that call that things can still turn out the way they're supposed to?

When do I remember why I started in the first place?

When do I remember all the good things? When to I actually get to be thankful? Content? Fulfilled?

When do I reconnect to what matters? When do I take time to think about who I am; want to be; was made to be? When do I plan to be that? When do I mourn that I haven't or celebrate that I have?

When do I heal? When do I forgive so that I can move on?

When does it all mean something?

The hope is that this thing that's been called prayer is an opportunity for "now" to stop being a point on a clock or a calendar and become a moment. Because moments are different. Inside the vast, dirty, smelly mess of time you find this something that's alive and it grows and it bears fruit. That's a moment. We need them. We need many of them.

To use the metaphor, seeds don't always sprout so you have to scatter a lot of them around. Some will fall in good places. Some bad.

Meaning is never an accident, it just isn't always where you planned to find it.

But I also bring up prayer despite my reluctance because last night for the first time in a while I took a moment. When I couldn't get to sleep because of all the things I had in my head I finally took a moment. I addressed some words to God as a Father and just started saying and considering what was on my mind. I started to let go of this and that. I remembered all the things that I had been praying for, but was still anxiously working over in my mind. I thought about whether I thought God cared about them and whether I thought He'd take care of them and if it really mattered that He hadn't done so yet.

I waited a little.

Then I slept.

No thoughts racing. No plans being made. For the first time in weeks I woke up and though my body was tired everything was OK.

posted by Scott # 11:34 AM 0 comments