White Noise

As I enter the last month of 2014 I find myself looking back over it with mixed feelings.  It's been such a roller coaster year.  I find myself marveling that the very things that filled me with hope and excitement at the start of 2013 have now become a source of immense pain, sorrow and isolation.  How does so much change from one year to the next?

2014 has become a year that while I would never change the birth of our beautiful little Myka, for the most part I struggle often with just wanting to forget the pain that is the last year.  I've had a lot of "why, God" questions this year.  Why when I've always experienced almost sickeningly good health do I have to be taken out at the knees by pregnancy?  Why does it have to impact all of my relationships in a way that leaves me feeling alone and isolated?  Why does that extreme isolation have to last another 2 months after our Princess Baby arrived?  Why do I have to continue to feel that extreme sense of aloneness even after that 2 months is up?  I'm full of why questions.

The reality is I'd love to snap my fingers and get over it.  To get on with my life the way I lived it before everything started to change, but the truth that I'm discovering is that while the answers to all of my "Why" questions aren't always apparent every so often God gives me a little glimpse at the reason.

You see, God has spent 2014 teaching me some important lessons, just like Moses had to flee to the desert to hear God, Elijah had to be separated from the noise of those around him and even Jesus, himself spent 40 days in the wilderness, I had to become separated from the busywork I was surrounded by that masked itself in relationships and church work to actually have the opportunity to hear what God was trying to tell me.

James reminds us that we are to "count it pure joy" whenever we meet with difficulties, but I think that myself like most people would like to kind of gloss over that part of Scripture.  It's much easier to read about the cancer survivor or the motivational speaker faced with the challenge of living life without arms and legs then it is to ask how that verse applies to me personally.  See, I know I'm probably not going to like the answer.

For me the answer has meant that God has had to remind me that I can't hear him when I won't slow down to listen.  When I'm caught up in the activity even of "good work", there is lots of white noise.  White noise while it's never very loud none the less drowns out beauty of silence.  This morning as I write this I'm sitting in a quiet living room before anyone else is up.  It's amazing what you hear when you stop to listen to what is going on around you.  I hear the little noises that my baby girl makes in her sleep.  I hear life starting to happen on the street outside my house as people start their morning routines or commute.  I hear the ticking of the clock that I often forget about.  I hear the creaking and settling of the house we call home.  And lets not forget the breathing of the dogs lying next to me.  In my daily life, I had become so busy running from one thing to the next that I never stopped to pay attention to the seemingly meaningless details.  The things that make up the fabric of our lives are the little things we often ignore.

I think that's what God has been using 2014 to show me.  The importance of taking those moments and just listening and being.  Whether it's with him or with the people I happen to be with, I realize that by having things taken away I value them more.  I realize that it's ok for me to give myself permission to spend an hour with someone and not look at my phone.  If I'm staring at a screen for a large portion of my time with someone, I'm creating white noise that keeps me from truly seeing what they need from me.  They don't need me distracted, they need me present.  The time that I spend with someone and how I spend it impacts how they will be a part of my life tomorrow, next week and even next month.  If I make them feel that I'm distracted and they are taking me away from more important things chances are that next time I try to spend time with them they might not be available.

I think as I try to re-acclimate to life after extreme isolation I realize the little things now.  I realize how I feel when someone I'm with is trying to carry on a conversation with another person via text while spending time with me.  I struggled for a while with how it made me feel, but now I'm seeing it as the gift it is.  Extreme isolation brings with it a higher sensitivity to how a disconnected person experiences the things that I might have never thought twice about doing before experiencing it myself.

At first I just thought of myself as broken.  Health that made it impossible for me to live a "normal" life.  Isolation when my health kept me from doing all the things I had once juggled successfully.  Now I'm starting to see it as a blessing.  God has given me the opportunity to clear my head of the white noise that we so often live our whole lives in and has allowed me to find value in whitespace and saying no to busyness while saying yes to life with purpose and being truly present in small doses rather than living in the lie that you can juggle dozens of "close" relationships successfully.  Never taking care of or truly taking time for myself to recharge and reconnect with God.  Don't get me wrong.  As my counselor reminds me, I'm coming out of this part of my life with a new identity.  One that I often don't understand completely yet and I do still have moments of mourning the "normal" life that I had at one time.  It seems like it would be much easier to go back to living in the white noise, but once you've seen the value of life stripped down there's no going back.

Being vs. Doing

What is a life sold out to God?  As someone who grew up in church and often heard how we need to "sell out to God", "surrender our life to Him"  and "die to the world".  I'm sorry to say eventually I came to the place that it really didn't matter how it was phrased I began tuning it out thinking the idea was this high spiritual plane that I could never even hope to achieve so what was the use in trying?  In my mind it became better to simply not try rather than try and be reminded of my shortcomings.  Not necessarily the right attitude to have, but one that I was able to function with.

I'm not sure at what point the light bulb actually went off in my head, but at some point I came to a realization about the problem with my thought process.  I was operating under the idea that I had to "fix" myself so to speak before I could "surrender completely".  I had to make myself acceptable before I could expect God to accept what I had to offer.  In other words, I had Cain's problem.  I thought somewhere in me there was something that God would be honored to accept for his service if I just worked hard enough at it.  I think it was at that point I realized plans are good.  To go through life never having a thought as to what you will do next is not really an option, but how often was I guilty of trying to plan how my spiritual life would go.  I realized that in much the same way I would plan my day out at work, I'll do A, B and C before lunch, D, E and F after lunch and if I get to G and H that's great, but they could wait until tomorrow.  I was applying that to my spiritual life.  If I could read a certain amount of Scripture that day, spend a set amount of time in prayer and go to church a set number of times a week my spiritual obligations had been fulfilled and if I repeated this enough one day I could maybe reach that place where I was "sold out" to God. 

The moment I realized that God doesn't want perfection, he wants willingness was a life changing point for me.  It meant stepping back and not doing, but being.  In doing I was showing others what I could do for God.  If my attitude is wrong I might even be trying to show them how fortunate God is to have someone like me representing him on the humble earth.  The interesting thing about the word do is that in any form it can pretty much stand by itself in a sentence.  It doesn't depend on another word to help define it's intent.  As for being, that's another story entirely.  It needs other words to show it's true and full meaning.  For me that meant that in being rather than doing I have to allow something other than my own steam to define the sentence of my life.  If I can do something in my own power, if people can look at my life and totally explain everything that happens by my strength and endurance then I'm really not living a life that emphasises the wonder and strength of God.  If I can show how I planned to get from point A to point B it's my story, but if there is no human way to explain how point B came from point A, well that's a story that only God can write!

A friend recently made the observation that he believes the way we go through things is the way God makes sure we learn well the lessons he's teaching us.  I must admit that based on my life in the last five years I completely agree with him.  Somehow the struggles as you try to accept that God has a bigger picture in mind while dealing with the daily disappointments of life not being where you anticipated at this point in your life take on a different view when you make it through that lesson and are on the other side.  I think that acceptance that we cannot manage the outcome and giving up control over some part of our life where maybe we didn't even realize control was such an issue for us is one of the hardest parts in the idea of being versus doing.  There is a part of us that wants to sit down and work on our ten year plan so that we feel productive, but the still small voice didn't come when Elijah was calling down fire on Mount Carmel it came when he was at his lowest and couldn't "do" anything to help himself.  In much the same way we have to come to the place that we are willing to "be" the conduit that God can use to show his greatness rather than showing the world how great God is by what we "do".