HEADING for the SURFACE

I cannot believe that it has been six weeks since I have made a blog post.  I am even more surprised that there have actually been folks reading it in the last 6 weeks in spite of no new posts.  I was prepared to check to see if anyone had been viewing, delete it, and start over.  Instead, I find myself with the challenge of returning to the surface - getting my head above water.

I won't bore anyone with the reasons or details, but life took a subtle but challenging turn of events a couple of months ago - just before Easter, and I found myself completely overwhelmed in almost every aspect of my life.  I ended up drained and drowning - physically, emotionally and spiritually. 

"Out of the depths, I cry to you, O Lord."  (Psalm 130:1)

I am not a scuba diver and I have never played one on TV or anywhere else.  In fact, I am actually a little afraid of the water, and thus am not even a very good swimmer.  However, I have learned from some friends who are that when you are diving in the depths and it is time to return to the surface, it is critical to take your time and pause periodically or decompression sickness - the bends - can be a real hazard.  Re-surfacing too quickly can be deadly.

I think that is true of our spiritual lives as well.  Admittedly, it was a rough couple of months.  But the worst of the craziness was wrapped up and done with by mid-May.  I was ready to get back at it full-force.  In fact, I kept trying to get back at it full-force only to find myself repeatedly slowed down.  Some days I felt like a student driver with an instructor in the passenger seat who was perpetually applying the brakes.  What I have come to see with 20-20 hindsight that I was riding with God in the driver's seat and God was setting a pace that allowed me to come out of the depths and re-engage in way that kept me spiritually, emotionally, and physically healthy.

I will admit that the slow re-entry is not always easy for me.  It isn't for many people.  Plus, we are not very patient with God's kairos time.  Our society has taught us that such things are unproductive and inefficient.  I suspect that the truth is we just are not all that comfortable dwelling with pain - especially emotional or spiritual pain.  We can, and often will, brag about our capacity to withstand extreme levels of physical pain.  Emotional and spiritual pain we seem to want to avoid, deny, or 'get over' just as quickly as possible.

Yet I will admit that in the dark, dreary, and exhausted moments when I just knew I should be back going full-tilt at 150%, I discovered a quiet peace and strength.  While I was trying to rush head-long back into the hectic life that had run me right to the deepest depths, the Spirit was busy drawing me into an embrace of love and mercy and grace.  While I was thinking of everything that I could or should be DOING, the Spirit was inviting me to repeated and extended times of just BEING.  I discovered that I was adrift in a sea of love.

I have long appreciated the verse from Psalm 46 "Be still and know that I am God." I am not sure that I have ever truly experienced it as fully as I have in the past 6-8 weeks.  What I have learned is that sometimes experiencing the awe, wonder, and life-giving presence of the Spirit happens more fully in the ascent from the depths that it does from the peaks of glorious mountaintop experiences.  I suppose that should not be surprising when I consider that the very image of God's love for God's world is an instrument of Roman torture and an empty grave.

I am finding delight in my days and even in my depths - as odd and perverse as that sounds.  My head and torso are above water now, but my feet are still trying to find purchase.  I am okay with that.  I'll still call out of the depths to God.  But while God is pacing my ascent, I'll just keep kicking.  I may never learn to scuba dive or even swim any better.  But floating in the sea of the Spirit is a pretty darned amazing place to be.

Be at peace wherever you are.  And if you find yourself in the depths and calling out to God, ascend as slowly as God allows you.  You may just discover that you are not drowning at all, but drifting in a sea of love.

Shalom -

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