Slow down. Breathe. Pay attention. Be quiet. Listen.
All these words assume something other than running willy-nilly hard-as-we-can-go-so-we-can-do-ever-more-and-more-good-things. This past Monday night, I sort of lost my mind at a meeting and went on a passionate tirade about beauty and other things, making declarations that I think are largely true about our heritage’s disconnect with beauty and physical life. My means of communication was unusual for me–I don’t usually end up yelling. And truthfully, I don’t think I was yelling like I could have been yelling, but for me, it was a larger presence than usual. (How’s that for fudging?) I apologized profusely to those in my path that night, and thankfully, they forgave me, all looking a little befuddled that Jeff had finally lost it.
Red flags went up inside me, asking me to pay attention to what was going on. Truth is, and I mentioned this in my last post on this blog, I’ve come to the conclusion that I’ve been working the past six to nine months at an unsustainable pace. It’s funny…when I think “discipleship” I am even more convicted of this than before. There is an urgency to discipleship, certainly, but there is also the notion that frenzied, hurried, gas-pedal-to-the-floor living is not what Jesus modeled, nor what Sabbath is about.
I’ve said many times that there is a hidden monk living in me, and while I don’t advocate a complete removal from the world for a lifetime, there is something deep to be said for silence and quiet and reflection. Yesterday’s Sabbath was an oasis for me, and I feel much more in tune with the rhythms God has established for me. I have to be careful saying that, because I don’t want to engage in spiritual hyperbole, or try to justify my own desire to slow down by adding some God-language to it. But in my heart I remain convicted that much of how we live as Americans is too, too fast. This is a place to be counter-cultural, and I don’t have to tell anyone that it’s costly.
Breathing deeper today…