Joy and I decided to stay in Kentucky this year for vacation. We had planned to head south and spend time on the Florida beaches that we love. COVID spikes invited other plans and to say we were disheartened is an understatement. I know plenty of people who have kept their vacations and are at the beach, but it was not something we felt we could do. I had no peace of heart or mind to go on that trip, but that didn’t mean we weren’t longing for some rest and respite.
We took a short trip right here in the bluegrass. We did our best to maintain social distancing. We wore our masks and we hand sanitized often. We tried our hardest to do the right thing; while being fully aware of those who didn’t seem to have our caution. We drove a lot of miles and we saw a lot of the state and it was great.
I stepped into my office this morning and the little plant that I have was pretty sad looking. It’s a “peace Lilly” and it’s poor leaves were super droopy. I gave it a good long drink and I found myself saying “there you go little friend, hope that refreshes you.” Yes, I was talking to my plant (I’m told they like that) but as I said the word “refresh” my heart skipped a beat.
That’s what a vacation can offer – a moment of refresh. Sometimes I have to refresh my web browser or our home WiFi network. My iPhone occasionally needs a refresh and restart. When I wake up each morning, I’m either refreshed or still worn out. There is something about this idea of refreshing that seems to be universally needed. From technology to my need for a vacation, to my plant; refreshment is a common need and comes from a variety of sources.
I was in need of a time of refreshing – a long drink to help revive droopy leaves. In this last year, I said goodbye to a beloved congregation and hello to a whole new one. I moved from one house to another. I met new friends. I started a new job and had to learn a whole new routine, structure, and setting. All this has been good, and I’m extremely thankful for where God has placed me, but it’s also stretched me and had me running at a different pace that I have had to adapt to.
In addition to the regular change of job transition, we have also had this COVID thing. I remember when we went into quarantine hearing a friend say “this will be good, look it’ll give us all a chance to slow down and enjoy life again.” I liked the idea, but I also had a pretty cynical thought. Would this really help us be ok? I began to worry that at some point a forced timeout could suppress our bubbling stuff for so long. Sure the lack of pollution has been great for the environment, but what about the pollution in our hearts and minds?
I spoke to a spiritual director once who told me that silence and solitude are two of the most important practices for a follower of Jesus. They invite us to get away from the constant noise and hear the quiet whisper of the Spirit. When I’m racing and attending to the constant noise around me, it is impossible for me to hear God’s prompts. With that much noise, I don’t deal with the places in me that God wants to bring healing to. I don’t allow the dark corners of my inner world to be confronted and confessed. I can fool myself into thinking all is well as long as I stay busy and sneak in a prayer or two here and there.
It takes a lot to be still and silent with God. I couldn’t handle it very well at the start. I needed a friend who encouraged me and supported me. I needed a friend to talk to when the sludge and brokenness of my soul felt like it was suffocating me. I remember feeling so much anger, and my friend said, it’s ok God is at work. I remember feeling lost in my thoughts and in the quiet – again, he said, it’s ok God is at work. I didn’t like what I was seeing or experiencing in my soul, and he said it’s ok God is at work in you.
The last 4 months have been a season of quiet that many of us haven’t handled well. We were forced to get quiet and many of us didn’t like what we saw. Most of us didn’t have a friend who walked with us to guide and guard – and it’s shown. We didn’t have a sage who encouraged and reminded us that while we were seeing darkness, God could bring light. We didn’t have a reminder that God sees us very differently than how we see us. And as the frustration grew and the itch to get back to normal increased, all that was bubbling inside started to spew out.
Another friend noted that during quarantine, road-rage was practically non-existent. The drivers who were on the road were courteous, used their turn signals, and let people merge. The highways felt more patient and honking as soon as the light turned green didn’t happen. Spend 20 minutes downtown or on a highway today and you’ll see that’s not true any longer. Our hurry to get to somewhere has increased dramatically – and consideration is only allowed as long as it doesn’t get in my way as I try to get where I’m going.
Our rush isn’t strictly on the roads either. We are in a hurry to respond with our speech and typing as well; and it’s not only speedy but shared with a razor’s edge. Critical words and demeaning blanket statements are easier than ever. And our fear of the unknown has ushered in a whole new anxiety response that blames anyone for anything.
We’re a volcano, like ancient Vesuvius, spewing words and actions of lava all around us. Ash billows from our speech and the intense heat is slowly burning us alive. Civil dialogue and conversation are replaced with memes and quick snarky responses that cut like knives. And, like ancient Pompeii, if we’re not careful, I fear we may soon be buried by the devastation.
I’d like to suggest an oasis of refreshment in the midst of our societal eruption. Most who either read or listen to this Life with Grace and Peace blog and podcast are followers of Jesus—Christians. I’m going to assume that we don’t agree on everything when it comes to the whole story of our faith. But can we agree that we, as followers of the one called the “prince of peace,” we can do better? Can we as disciples of the “wonderful counselor” find ways to bring some grace and peace back into our lives?
It starts with quieting ourselves. It starts with seeing the sludge and volcanic mess that is churning in our own souls. It starts with confessing the dark self-centeredness within and remembering that Jesus came to serve and not be served. It starts remembering that while we were enemies, God showed us his immense love in sending Jesus to take on the consequences of our rebellion. It starts remembering that we’ve been healed from sin and hearing that God is at work in us and we can be whole.
But for this to happen, it will take men and women of God who enter into a time of silence and solitude with the Spirit. And from there, it will take fellow disciples to encourage us – it’s ok, God is at work in you. It’s ok to confess that sludge and self-righteousness – it’s ok, to be wronged – it’s ok to be angry but do so and sin not (which includes our rage.) It’s ok to let our hurts and frustrations with the world be taken by Jesus – we weren’t meant to bear them anyway.
And when we can get to this place – I have a feeling that we will sense the refresh of God upon our souls. Will all the yuck around us be gone? Probably not, but we might be able to handle that yuck better, and we might be more willing to share some grace and peace with others who are needing to refresh as well.
I watered my pathetic droopy plant at 8:30 this morning. It’s not yet 11:30, and the stems are beginning to stand tall. The leaves don’t look as sad. It’s perking up and taking that refreshment it so desperately needed. In another hour or so, it’ll be fully restored. Our refreshment might take longer than a couple hours, but a little silence and solitude – a little reminder that God is at work even in the midst of your own stuff – and I bet we will find ourselves on the way to a restoration that we need. And, as we are restored, ever so slowly, don’t be surprised that your refreshment could also invite those around you to a time of refresh as well.
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