Time-Out

Reflections on 1 Corinthians 7:14-25 & John 6:31

I knew that if I could just get out of the car I would be free.  It was an unusually warm February morning, almost fifty degrees.  The sun danced on the waters of the Delaware River just a stones throw from the parked car. Leafless trees and a blanket of week-old snow, marked only by the restless wanderings of squirrels and deer, made the invitation to come almost tangible.  There is something about bare winter trees, all bark and branches, unencumbered by summer’s leafy greens, which exposes a truth that is both shameful and beautiful.  These are the days postcards are made of, I thought to myself.  And still I sat, buckled in, keys in the ignition, windows up and doors locked. 

I do not understand my own actions.

 For I do not do what I want, but I do the very thing I hate.

1 Corinthians 7:15

I had come with the intention to walk, just to walk.  I had come to shake loose the cobwebs that had grown thick around my once active imagination.  I had come seeking inspiration … motivation.  I had come to take a first step toward something bigger than the laundry list of daily chores that had occupied so much of the past several months.  It is amazing how fast you can lose yourself in the details of day to day living.  Picking up this and that, keeping three children in clean clothes and erasing fingerprints and toothpaste splatters from bathroom mirrors.  It is a dangerous endeavor to pay too much mind to the details.  Details can be the undoing of creative promise, a convenient distraction, an excuse to hide behind when fear gets the better of us.  Like so many leaves on a tree hiding the brokenness and the beauty that lies beneath, petty details hang like scales before the eyes of those who have forgotten their dreams.

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Jesus had big dreams … kingdom-of-God-sized dreams.  Big dreams require lots of work and Jesus was no slacker.  He logged a lot of miles in those sandals, traveling from town to town, healing and teaching and gathering those who longed to share his dream.  Everywhere he went he drew a crowd and soon word of his coming preceded him and crowds formed in anticipation of his arrival.  There was no end to the people who wanted and needed something from him; a dying child, a leprous man, a bleeding woman, the blind, the accused, the cheaters, the religious leaders.  There was so much to do on any given day that twenty-four hours just wasn’t enough.  And still Jesus found time to get away, time to put the to-do list on hold and take a walk around the lake or a hike up a mountain to pray, to think, dream, to find a little inspiration … a renewed sense of motivation.  He gave himself permission to walk away for a short time and he taught his disciples to do the same.  I could be mistaken, but I think those little time-outs provided fuel for the dream.  They helped keep the dream alive and in focus.       

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I had almost forgotten my dreams.  Had I forgotten them altogether, I suppose I wouldn’t have been sitting in a parked car facing the banks of the Delaware.  I almost didn’t come at all.  There were so many pressing reasons to stay home.  I had several years’ worth of medical bills to file.  The kitchen floor needed to be mopped.  It always needs to be mopped.  The basement was a disaster.  It has never been otherwise.  The doors to the bedrooms needed to be scrubbed.  Why hadn’t I seen that before?  And when was I going to get around to painting the molding around the new front door … the one that was installed almost a year ago?  I am, it seems, passive aggressive toward my own best interests, subconsciously manufacturing reasons to delay doing the things I most want to get done, so that the anxiety that results renders me unable to get my lazy rear in gear.  It is a cycle of subversion that spirals faster and deeper, until I am dissatisfied with everything and everyone with of course, only myself to blame.  I am aware enough to know that I am, at times, my own worst enemy and that is enough for me to compound guilt with a twinge of self-loathing.

For I do not do the good I want, but the evil I do not want is what I do.

1 Corinthians 7:19

The upside is that this is only me at my worst.  There is another side to my slightly complicated self and that was the side that I was hoping to rediscover along the river’s edge.  I just needed to get out of the car.  I had driven fifteen miles from my home with every intention of getting out of the car.  I was dressed for success … sweatpants, sweatshirt, sneakers and my favorite fleece vest with an inside pocket for my iPod, which was charged and ready to go.  There was some forethought here and that was encouraging.  So, even I was surprised when I pulled in the parking lot and found my body at odds with my plan.  Why was it so hard to get out of the car?

Wretched one that I am!  Who will rescue me from this locked car?

1 Corinthians 7:24 (sort of)

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The disciples had been busy, very busy.  Jesus had sent them out in pairs to preach and cast out demons and heal the sick.  There was no end to the people who wanted and needed something from them.  When they returned and submitted their reports to Jesus they were spent, but the work was not done.  That is when …

Jesus said to the disciples, “Come away to a deserted place all by yourselves and rest awhile.”  For many were coming and going, and they had no leisure …

Mark 6:31