grace for the moment

"For strange effects and extraordinary combinations we must go to life itself, which is always far more daring than any effort of the imagination." --Arthur Conan Doyle

Welcome friends, along this crazy road we call life, full of the absurd and the ridiculous, the lament-worthy and the charming. There is much that is glorious here, and much that is unexpected and difficult. (Or very much expected and still strangely difficult.) We couldn't make this up. I couldn't.

I've been rousingly reminded of a proverbial truth recently: you can't borrow grace. So many times we worry, developing stress over what's around the next bend. Personally, I've never been one to worry about the distant future, but the near future... oh boy. That extra work load next week? That task you've only done once before in your life... the car dealer you should probably call? How am I going to have the energy for that event I said I'd do? What if I'm awkward and conversation lapses when I see that person I haven't seen in a while?

Most of the time I don't even think those sentences out to completion. I don't live in worry-zone. But the events still try to loom over me, creating stress. (And I don't need anything else to tighten my neck and make me tired.) "In this world you shall have trouble". There's plenty to trouble the world, and those who notice what goes on. But we are not to worry about tomorrow. Tomorrow is supposed to worry about itself.

So often in my life, the events or moments that have been crowding my mind ahead of time, or creating worry and stress, look completely different once I'm face-to-face with them. Most often, once faced, these things are far easier to manage. Occasionally circumstances are harder than you ever expected them to be: but rarely are they coupled with the crippling 'I can't do this' that worry holds. There's something reassuring and straight-forward about one step in front of the other, once you're there. Even blind steps, once you're making progress through the murk, have that degree of: one-down, x-to-go, that helps bring an immediacy to the God is with me and what's the worst that could happen? (at worst, If I perish, I perish), and even helps you feel linked to the rest of mankind. Because who of us has this figured out actually?

It's easy at this point to make some diminishing comment about how mostly we deal with small stuff. But, to quote Sir Doyle again, "to the great mind, nothing is little". It is frequently the smallest glimpse, the oldest longing, the unsurprising outcome: the mundane, that can be the hardest to deal with. The most wearing on your soul, wearying to body, schedule and mind.

But anyway, that's quite a bit of ramble...
What I'm trying to say is that there are several things I'm learning (relearning, trying to practice).

1) I can't pretend things aren't there. Or that they don't affect me.
No amount of 'this shouldn't hurt' or 'I know it doesn't matter in the grand scheme of things' can effectively counter the impact the world has on me. And who says it should? I would rather notice, I would rather feel, I would rather gaze dizzily at this world and laugh in confusion, than miss it altogether.

2) Don't confuse responsibility with going it alone.
This one has been really big for me. Going into the world as an adult, figuring out how to do the things your parents have always done for you: getting a job, and a house, paying bills, making necessary phone-calls, having hard conversations, getting out of jams, repairing your car... all of these things are good things, and necessary, and they make me feel, well... responsible. And I do believe that as Christians we should be the most trustworthy, unfearful, willing (and therefore responsible) people you can think of. The trouble is, it often takes desperation to realize I can't do any of this without God. And so I wait until I'm really overwhelmed before I give it all back to him. How silly. I could have been living free from the weight of it all.

But there's more. Responsibility doesn't mean going it alone with people either. God gives us people: family, community, caring strangers. He wants us to look after each other, to serve, and to have the humility to ask for and receive help. We've all seen plaques that say things like 'asking for help is not a sign of weakness but a sign of strength'. And yet, am I still too self-conscious to ask how you do that? To ask someone to go with me? To pray for me?

It's hard to lay it all down, and still take up the cross. To serve and work and be faithful at the same time as wait, and let go, and trust God for the strength for the next minute and the next.

3) So there's a lot of: ask God about it (and ask God to help you not to worry about it, to give you strength in the moment), and then think about something else.
I'm starting to put everything in my phone now. I used to be able to keep track of complex schedules in my head, but not lately. I set reminders for myself all the time, and have my phone tell me when I should leave for appointments. Because every day (and minute) has enough trouble of it's own. I need to be able to rest now, knowing that there isn't something I Should Be Doing.
Which leads me to my last...

4) Schedule rest, schedule breaks in the calendar. Say no to guilt--whether it's 'I should have been looking at houses earlier', or 'I should have known that' or 'I should have exercised'.
It's not up to us to get it all right. Trust God. for the past. for the present. for the future (near and distant). Talk to Him about all the coulda shoulda wouldas. Remember all those times he came through and you laughed at your worry (like this afternoon).
Call your mom (or your dad). They might know the answer already. And if they don't you can laugh about it together, and you'll realize they didn't have it all figured out when they were raising you either.
And look how you turned out!

Cheers everyone:
May you get naps.
May you find hope.
May the sun shine.