Strolling

“It is always the simple things that change our lives. And these things never happen when you are looking for them to happen. Life will reveal answers at the pace life wishes to do so. You feel like running, but life is on a stroll. This is how God does things.”  Donald Miller

Running through sand. I see the goal, but each step is agonizingly slow. It's a nightmare, but my mind is sure I'm awake. Then I my eyes open and I feel the sweat of the sheets underneath me. For almost three years I have been living that nightmare. Strolling when I want to run. Running in real life to feel sane, then stepping back into the sluggish reality of everyday.  I waited for my mom to finish her gradual decline, thinking back to the mercy of my dad's quick death, and then feeling guilty for wishing for something so morbid. But was it?  I slogged through the detritus of the estate while relatives asked why I was taking so long. I moved not one, but four trucks over to Bend, filled with boxes which still confetti my home. Now my dreams entail wandering through mazes of landfill, trying to find my way out.

"Waiting begins when you're sure that you're done waiting," according to Pastor Rick Booye. I thought I was through some time ago. Am I there yet?

Today I filled out application after application so I can survive while I reach for my passion. Depression dogs my steps. This is a real life run through sand. There is no waking here, only persistence. Faith. Trust. Lord when? How many of us have asked that question? More pertinent, how long will I stroll instead of mounting  up with wings like eagles or running with horses?

So I wait. And it is slow. Slower than the slowest of slows I've known. Meanwhile the world spins at its regular pace as I seem to lose days...or maybe years. Perhaps while I am strolling tomorrow, a simple but life-changing moment will float across my day, my earth bound eyes unseeing, while God in His amazing timing smiles. 

Loud Silence

I've started painting again...pulled out an old canvas that I thought needed reworking. How can I describe what it was like to put paint to brush once more after such a long hiatus? It was like going to the gym every day for a year, then stopping for a year and returning. Urrrghhh. I don't have the same endurance or skill. There is all this knowledge in my head that won't come out through my hand!

The acid test came when I friend visited my studio. I warned him that I was not happy with my current painting. He stood in the middle of the room, and asked "Is that what you're painting." (The only piece on the easel, but I resisted any sarcasm and simply replied "Yes.") Silence. Loud, loud silence. He left the room and that was that. Okay. I can do this. Let me rephrase that--God can do this.

Lord, help me at least show up. I wanted adventure. I wanted a new life...well, here it is, with all it's road rash reality.

Approach / Avoidance

I have a new profession. It's called "avoidance." Procrastination could be it's cousin, but I'm quite familiar with that, and this is different. Painting was something that didn't see the tarnish of procrastination because I always wanted to brush my visions onto canvas. It was an exercise that gave me joy, rewarding me by being far more ecstasy than agony. Now I have the pieces of my studio scattered about the house, and a beautiful empty room in which to put them together... So I went to Goodwill. No good reason. Just wandered for an hour trying to figure out why people make plastic statues of tigers mating and write books about the Sex Lives of Cannibals. I suppose it was free entertainment, but for me it had greater significance--avoidance. Why?! Do I need a personal trainer (with a whip) to get me moving forward? Sigh. Let me take this one step further to the syndrome called "Approach / Avoidance." Note, first of all, that there is an approach side to this! When one side offers a stronger reward than the other, there is that magic tipping point. So what is my reward for avoidance? Well, if one of you figures it out, please let me know. Fear of failure...hmmmm...maybe. Laziness?...no. Certifiable mess. Quite possibly. (Not just my house--ME.) I think I know why the Israelites wandered in the desert. The transition of leaving all that was familiar, even though it was freeing, tore their comfort zones apart. Letting go and embracing the new was their only positive response available. And yet they wandered. Tomorrow I will not wander. I will take one step at a time toward my goal, because I don't have 40 years and I'm with Joshua and Caleb--I believe the giants can be faced with God's help and direction...and with people who come along side and say, "You can do it."