From Drama to the Doldrums

Just yesterday, my son commented that I hadn't added a post to this blog recently.  He wondered if I hadn't found any new inspiration.  After I thought about this, I had to admit that, even though I had not been consciously aware of an inspiration drought, his observation was spot on.

I figured something out: if you want to have new insight into your physical and spiritual existence, you might want to have open heart surgery.  There is just something about having your entire state of being thrown into uncertain upheaval that makes you want to take stock of everything.  And if you had started a blog just prior to the procedure, you would find that ideas came looking for you, rather than the other way around.

But after all of the "excitement" of surgery, things start to return to normal.  No longer was I forced to think about staying alive and making dramatic changes to my lifestyle.  No longer was the path to my door beaten down by people who wanted to do nice things for my family.  So, I just relaxed and got on with the slow, boring act of letting my body heal.

    

What has happened in that time has been uninspiring.  I look at food labels and try to eat well.  I take naps.  I watch some television.  I make phone calls and pay a few bills.  I walk around the block.  I watch the weeds in my yard grow and feel guilty when my neighbor mows my grass.  I tell my dogs to quit barking.  I take my medicines.  I ride in the car with my wife to the store, and I walk with her around the block on a regular basis.  What I am saying is this: I go about the business of living life.  And I do it with purpose--I am letting my body heal.  It's boring, but it is essential.  Few things regarding my future matter as much as how well I deal with the very "unexciting" now.

I spent twelve years of my life in school.  I went to boot camp when I was in the military.  I was potty trained as a child.  None of these things were exciting or fun at the time, but they all played key roles in making me the man that I am today.  I am thankful for the times in my life that I was troubled with them.

Sometimes living a spiritual life is thrilling.  Sometimes living for God is dramatic and fun.  Usually,  however, it isn't.  Most of the time, living a spiritual life is determined by how well we respond to the God in the physical.  Finding and loving God in the day-to-day, in the drudgery, will ultimately determine how we find and love Him in the dramatic. 

And if we are looking for the God that is real, shouldn't we expect to best see Him in the pictures of real-life?  The only God that matters is the God that meets us where we are.