What To Do With Empty Space

"Blessed is she who has believed that what the Lord has said to her will be accomplished!" - Luke 1:45

I'm thinking about promises this morning. Conceptually, that is -- I've not yet progressed to specifics.

At church yesterday, the sermon was on joy. The pastor noted how much of our joy is anticipatory: we feel joy when we get great Celtics tickets, even though it's weeks before tip-off and we have no idea how the game will go.  He described the joy he felt in waiting at the alter for his bride, even though he didn't know how their marriage would unfold. What we have in these moments, he said, is the promise of something we're excited to witness and be part of.  And we have joy in those promises.

I have all kinds of promises from God, both the ones in the Bible and the personal ones He whispers in my ear.  It's hard to believe these promises sometimes. (I tend to have more confidence that the Celtics will show up and play than I do that God will.)

And so I wonder: What would it look like for me to let myself be filled with the joy that comes from anticipating God's promises?  Over the years, I've gotten rather "realistic," as the ways I can imagine God coming through have blown by.  It feels more responsible to pursue acceptance instead, acknowledging that what I see today is the life God has given me, and if I can't find joy in that then I'm a faith failure.

What I love about yesterday's sermon is that it gives me a Biblical way out of this messy patch of lies. The Bible doesn't tell us to accept our sorry plight, or force ourselves to be happy.  Instead, it says, "LOOK AT ALL THESE PROMISES!" and suggests that we believe, and let anticipation of what God is rolling our way cause us to wiggle with joy, like little kids on Christmas Eve.  Just because we don't know how Santa will get those giant presents down the chimney does't mean he won't :)

As we were driving to school this morning, Princess Peach and I were listening to the Ryanhood song, I Didn't Put Anything Into Your Place (listen here).  She was singing along in the backseat, while I was navigating a traffic circle and thinking about how the lyrics remind me of Advent: the struggle to wait and hold the space for God's promises, rather than filling it up with other things.

Some drink in coffee and some think of shopping
Some get new lovers and some get new drugs
I wrote you to say that it must have been grace
I didn't put anything into your place

This is my prayer today:

Dear God, help me anticipate Your promises. Help me feel joy as I trust that the holes in my life will be filled with Your good gifts, and resist the urge to fill the space with placeholders. 

Project Relaxation: on alcohol lyrics & starting where you are

So my month of intentional relaxation has come to a close, dumping me right into July (which is quite possibly the best month in which to have enhanced ones relaxation skills!)  Here's what I learned:

I'm not naturally relaxed.  I can chill, but it's not my default setting.  It takes a bit of effort, which seems counter-intuitive.  But I can fight off the nagging taunt of my to-do list by reminding myself, "But I AM doing something...I'm relaxing!"

I first suspected there might be different ways in which each of us are programmed to relax (or not) back in law school, when my friend Jon spent our exam prep week watching pro golf on TV and napping.  I spent the week drowning in outlines & sample tests, not sleeping or eating anything that didn't come from a chip bag or soda can... Our GPAs for that semester were two one-hundredths of a point apart.

This idea of having different set points for relaxation popped up again a few months ago at a Ryanhood concert, as I listened to Owen Plant, who opened for them.  He's a fabulous musician, with lots of happy tunes about life on the beach. His lyrics made me think of surfing, rum & fruity drinks.

At one point I thought, "Hmm...If I wrote songs, I don't think they'd be about rum.  They'd be about wine, maybe, or vodka...something a little more intense." My starting point is more go after life than take life as it comes.  And even if I sometimes wish this were different, it isn't. In my imaginary songs, I'm goal oriented, worried about my outfit, trying to figure out what will happen next.  You know...wine, not fruity drinks.

(Can you see a songwriting continuum from Owen, writing about relaxing rum...to me, with my imaginary lyrics about wine/vodka...then out on the other extreme, angry tunes about cheap beer & moonshine? I entertained myself with this for the better part of half an hour).

I don't write songs, but I'd guess that when you do, you write from where you are.  And I think relaxation isn't all that different: you start from where you are.

God made each of us unique...which is great, except when we look at other people's lives hoping to find some sort of owner's manual for our own.  We have to find our own relaxation level...and our own drink metaphor lyrics...and the manual that will tell us how we're built to work the best.

We're made to search, and if we let him, God will help us find.
That's a good thing.

I'm off to add "Relax!" to my to do list :)