Mystery in the Journey

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The older I get, the less I’m sure about. The more I realize that there’s so much that I don’t know and probably never will.

The older I get, the more I believe God is calling me to trust in spite of the mystery of my life– or maybe because of it. After all, faith is trusting what we can’t see or feel or touch or taste with our physical senses. Faith is believing when common sense tells you not to.

I do believe rest comes from cessation of striving after knowing all the answers. Tranquility comes with making peace with unanswered questions and unfulfilled longings. Peace comes when you and I finally understand that God doesn’t give answers as much as He gives Himself and He doesn’t grant our desires as much as He gradually becomes the greatest desire of our hearts.

So I trust in God in the midst of the unknown when there’s so much that doesn’t make sense. I cling to the Promises when I can’t see beyond the next 24 hours what my life will look like.

And that to me is the most restful place to be.

 

My Idea of Nirvana on a Spring Evening

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Last night, it was on the brisk side, if not chilly, and overcast. As much as I’ve grown to covet sunshine these days, I didn’t mind too much. I had a picture come to mind of what I’d like to be doing at that moment. It’s not the most exciting or thrilling of possibilities, but it works for me.

I’d be at a local coffee shop, sipping on some organic tea (or maybe some kind of chai or an exotic latte if the mood strikes). I’d have a good book in hand, maybe a British murder-mystery or a book of poetry, and there’d be some mellow folksy music playing in the background (think Joni Mitchell, Peter Bradley Adams, or Carole King-type tunes). Or maybe some old-school jazz in the tradition of Miles Davis, Red Garland, or Wes Montgomery.

That would be my idea of peace and tranquility and a good time. Not watching a 24-hour news channel ad nauseum. Don’t get me wrong. If you watch Fox News or CNN non-stop, then go for it. I just get tired of talking heads talking about the same things for hours upon hours without variation. The same goes for most talk radio I’ve experienced in my life. Fiction, especially of the fantasy kind, is infinitely more interesting to me. I like my television to be as non-realistic as possible.

I like my Starbucks like the rest, but I’m thinking this needs to be a more local-type place, like Eighth and Roast or Edgehill Cafe. Actually, now that I think about it, sitting outside the Edgehill Cafe with my tea and my book and occasionally glancing up to watch the people passing by sounds perfect.

If I ever get the notion, you’re more than welcome to join me. I might even put my book down and we could have ourselves a good conversation.