Stop and smell...the petunias?
Less is more; but how do we get there in our "more is more" world?
I've had a bit of a silent season for a few months, at least as relates to the public eye—my family certainly would not call it silent. Of course, I'm pondering all the while. Often these thoughts spill over like a starchy pasta pot, creating the same hot mess. My family members don’t want or need my extra words, and you probably don’t either, but if you’re reading this far, perhaps the questions I ask resonate and you wish to come and ponder with me.
My most recent reads (The Life We’re Looking for, Andy Crouch; How to Know a Person, David Brooks, Living from the Heart Jesus Gave You, E. James Wilder & co., The Deepest Place, Curt Thompson, MD) shape my wrestlings: everything points to the necessity of a long, slow process relationally, vocationally, spiritually...Even my favorite fiction of the moment, Martin Walker’s series on Bruno, Chief of Police, suggests that gardening, cooking, knowing (a community, a region, a culture) means more listening and less reacting; it means better questions and fewer answers, or at least slower ones. But everything in our culture propels us towards the instantaneous, fast, more words more often, more opinions, and what feels like much less thoughtfulness to much shallower effect.
I want off this runaway train.
I believe I have mentioned before that my relationship with words is a life-long, for- better-or-for-worse scenario. As with a marriage, if I tried to find another “lover” I would suffer all the pain of divorce and still deal with all the limitations and growing pains of a new venture. I must grow old with words, and hope this will also denote maturity with them.
One of my conclusions: to get more with less, we need to camp out in the questions. Fewer words of mine; more space for you. I believe with all my heart that questions both provide the scope we need to do the work and insist that we slow down enough to do it. So, here are some for today:
In what area of your life do you need to find more stillness—even silence—in order to recover joy in Christ?
What cultural lies have become obstacles to taking life at a better speed for your fruitfulness/maturity in Christ?
What one step will you take today to recapture the proper work/rest rhythm that is yours?
Photo credit: M.A. Reed (9 years old) who teaches me to slow down, stop, and notice.
Great thoughts. And GOOD books