The Meddler

I’m Meddling.
It’s five o’clock in the morning. My eyes strain to see the clock hoping it’s later so I can get up and get moving. I want to sleep but have trained myself to feel better if I rise early as not to appear lazy or uninvolved.
Before my head rises from the pillow lists and messages fly through my brain. The lists consist of ways I can “Make it happen” today. Emails I need to return rush to the surface as the beginning of panic sets in and phrases like “What If I forget to do that?” echo in my head.
On the counter in my kitchen is a book someone gave to me 15 year ago, the last time these sort of trials seemed to overtake my life. I pick it up and turn to March 29th and 30th and the voice of my God reverberates off the pages.
A story of a monk who planted an Olive Tree creates a tiny hole in my hardened heart that creates warmth in this dark place. It’s warmth I haven’t felt in some time. The monk in the story prayed for the olive tree he planted both day and night. He prayed for a gentle shower to water it. He prayed for sunshine to help it grow and he even prayed for frost to strengthen it but the tree died.
A second monk also had an Olive Tree. He too prayed for the tree but the second monk understood that he knew not what the tree really needed. He simply entrusted the tree to its’ maker. He laid no conditions on the tree or the growth process instead saying God give the tree what it needs, sunshine, rain, snow, a storm, wind or frost and this tree lived.
The second monk understood that the tree was Gods and only God understood the particular needs of that tree.

The other part of my “Stream in the Desert” was the story of darkness. This is something I relate to all to well during this season of my life. I’d like to say I understand it but that would be a stretch, a public relations tool to make you think I know far more than I do.
When we get into a dark place our temptation is to find any way out. We turn to friends, we turn to books, and we look for processes, techniques and past practices to get us out. We are trained to see dark places as equivalent to bad places.
I’m starting to think that this dark place is my perfect place right now. Maybe the darkness is not something I should try to extricate from my everyday walk. Maybe I should put the “Jaws of Life” away and simply wait? God will show me a way out or perhaps a way deeper down. The problem is the culture we live in says to stay in darkness is to be nonproductive. But what if to try to make light in what is supposed to be darkness is actually to meddle? What If this place I have found myself is exactly where I need to be and pushing, prodding and prowling my way out will only prolong the pain and prevent me from finding my place? (that was a whole lot of “P’s”)
God knows just what we need. He knows how much, how soon and how long we can last. I don’t see this as a test that sounds so religious and bit arrogant. It is what it is and I must stop scrambling for more fertilizer or a flashlight.
Maybe tomorrow morning when my head rises from the pillow I can quiet the noise, put my head back down, and let God do what He does best which is run the show.

No Comments

• 
  zach March 29, 2009 at 8:51 pm

  This reminds me of something I learn and unlearn all the time. Such a hard lesson. When I want something to happen I focus on it and that is when it never does. When I finally give up and move on to something else….or give up and lose all hope and expectation it happens all by itself. We try to engineer the future and we fail. When we let go miracles happen. Like that fishing analogy I refer to often: you stare at the water waiting for a bite and nothing happens. Forget about it later and resign your expedition as a failure and walk away…..when you glance over later you notice the fishing pole is flying towards the water with a huge catch and you flail to grab it. Whenever I really give up in finding my angel she does something to restore all my hope……suddenly and unexpectedly. It is hard but it is the reminder that you can never give up hope even if it all seems a loss. You just have to wait and really, somehow, forget what you are waiting for. It is the hardest thing to do because it is what you do not do. The action of inaction and unconcentration. I know if I ever did give up all hope of seeing her (I cannot or I will self destruct) that would be the day she comes looking for me. It is a strange paradox-trying to have something happen vs. surrendering your fate and allowing it to happen itself.