Isn’t it easy to get lost? We rattle on engaged in any number of tasks. We buy more stuff. We make grand plans. We try to keep up… keep the pace, keep the status quo, keep our titles or try to obtain more. We serve and give and overextend because that’s what we are supposed to do (and in earnest, if we have good hearts, that’s what we want to do). And then before we know it… wham. We are standing in unknown territory wondering how in the world we got here.
Are you lost? Are you burdened? Might you feel you’ve discovered yourself under a huge rock upon which sits more rocks? Me, too! Recently, I was struggling to push that big rock and all the smaller ones off of me, but it wasn’t working out very well. All of my muscles were shaking. Sweat was getting in my eyes, and my head was pounding. Like always in life, I just keep pushing and groaning and believing that with enough bullheaded determination, I would remove the weight bearing down on me. Yeah, no. All I got out of that deal was exhaustion.
But then the God moment came, you know that other experience you never see coming, and everything shifts. Suddenly, I gave in. I rested. I released. I noticed the moist scent of the warm, brown earth. I felt the cool of grass and listened for the sound of seeds growing somewhere beneath me. And I realized that this wasn’t so much about what was on top of me, bearing down upon me… but more about the fact that I was being held. I was cupped in this place of lostness so that I could return to what is known… so I could return to what is always waiting patiently to be known. The longer I rested here, the softer my body became which enabled the rocks to shift, and then to begin to tumble. In time, there was a shaft of light that brightened the darkness and called to me like a gentle calling from sleep. As I became aware that soon I would rise up from this place and return to familiar territory, I lingered here for a time, scratching a bit of the earth under my nails and pressing my fingerprints into the ground.
This is not lost. This is remembering. This is returning.
Blessed be the winding path that takes us here.
Blessed be the long shadows and the bearing weight that guide us toward our peace, our deepening, our own fertile ground.
Are you lost? Are you burdened? Might you feel you’ve discovered yourself under a huge rock upon which sits more rocks? Me, too! Recently, I was struggling to push that big rock and all the smaller ones off of me, but it wasn’t working out very well. All of my muscles were shaking. Sweat was getting in my eyes, and my head was pounding. Like always in life, I just keep pushing and groaning and believing that with enough bullheaded determination, I would remove the weight bearing down on me. Yeah, no. All I got out of that deal was exhaustion.
But then the God moment came, you know that other experience you never see coming, and everything shifts. Suddenly, I gave in. I rested. I released. I noticed the moist scent of the warm, brown earth. I felt the cool of grass and listened for the sound of seeds growing somewhere beneath me. And I realized that this wasn’t so much about what was on top of me, bearing down upon me… but more about the fact that I was being held. I was cupped in this place of lostness so that I could return to what is known… so I could return to what is always waiting patiently to be known. The longer I rested here, the softer my body became which enabled the rocks to shift, and then to begin to tumble. In time, there was a shaft of light that brightened the darkness and called to me like a gentle calling from sleep. As I became aware that soon I would rise up from this place and return to familiar territory, I lingered here for a time, scratching a bit of the earth under my nails and pressing my fingerprints into the ground.
This is not lost. This is remembering. This is returning.
Blessed be the winding path that takes us here.
Blessed be the long shadows and the bearing weight that guide us toward our peace, our deepening, our own fertile ground.
RSS Feed
