Whatever

These days, the term, ‘whatever’ is frequently used to connote a dismissive, derisive, indifferent attitude. For example:

A parent tells a teenager: “Don’t put off until tomorrow what you can do today.”

Teenager responds: “Whatever!”

A few years ago, I developed this ‘whatever’ attitude towards God. I felt like God was not really going along with my plans, so I might as well give up, throw my hands up in exasperation, and exclaim ‘Whatever Lord!’ This was as close to surrendering as I could get!

There are certain things that I feared and dreaded. I wasn’t eager to embrace these situations, even if it was God’s will for me. Jesus also experienced these feelings of dread before suffering. Thus it must be part of the human condition. Yet, Jesus overcame these emotions and submitted to the Father’s will—which was NOT whatever other humans wanted or expected.

Recently, I noticed a slight shift in my prayers. I have been asking God to change my attitude: Grant me whatever I need--to do whatever YOU want, Lord. Equip me, strengthen me, so that I may do Your will.

I’m still not eager to do God’s will, but neither am I filled with dread at the prospect. The tone of my ‘whatever’ has changed to one of less exasperation and more acceptance.

Putting Out Fires

Each day brings a new set of pressing concerns--things that have to be dealt with immediately. In the larger scheme of things, most of these daily dramas are not earth-shattering—forgotten wallets, overdue bills, car trouble, taxes, work stress, aging parents, icy roads, relationship conflicts, emotional issues, etc. Then again, some are personally significant—major health issues, deaths, disabilities, life-changing choices…

By the time I’m done taking care of these matters, I have run out of time and energy. All my attention is poured into resolving the crisis at hand. I’m so busy putting out fires, that I often neglect fire prevention.

According to the National Fire Protection Association, the most common causes of residential fires are: overloaded circuits, neglected smoke alarms, combustibles near heat sources, and unattended stoves or ovens. When I read this list, I realized that I need to focus on both the literal and metaphorical fire hazards in my life. I need to redistribute the electronics plugged into the hubs of power strips around the entertainment center and computers. I should check the batteries on the smoke alarms. I have to move the boxes in the furnace room and remind my son not to use space heaters next to blankets or curtains. I can’t walk away from the kitchen when I have something on the stove. These physical fire hazards are easier to deal with than the metaphorical ones.

I also have a tendency to overload certain areas of my life. I need to reevaluate the essential activities that I need to expend my energy on and unplug from the rest. Sometimes I ignore the alarms going off, even going as far as disabling the detectors that notify me of danger. My body usually sends out signals of stress—reduced immunity, elevated blood pressure, sleep issues, exhaustion, headaches, skin break-outs—and I ignore or cover up these symptoms. I also neglect to leave adequate space around situations that are sure to generate heat. Even when I know something stressful is coming up, I pack my schedule too close, leaving very little room for ventilation. And I often get distracted and leave my hearth unattended. What was intended to be nourishing and sustaining ends up boiling over or scorched.

If I could take some time to fireproof my life, maybe I wouldn’t have to spend as much time putting out fires!

  

Middle-Age Marriages

Marriage is a lot like a team sport. It takes a lot of hard work, strategy, stamina, and concentration to reach the goal. There is always so much going on—and as the game progresses, the players get exhausted.

Middle-age marriages—after the kids are grown, but still dependent—when aging parents require your attention, when neither your health nor energy is as high as it was in younger years—this period can be especially draining.  

In sports, teams use time-outs to halt the game at strategic points. They use these short breaks to huddle together, discuss strategy, give each other pep talks, and get quick refreshments. In football, time-outs have to be used up during each half—they can’t be accumulated and carried over.

Many of us try to plan vacations as a means of refreshment and restoration. Yet, week-long getaways can be expensive and time-consuming. Not to mention that most of the time, you need a vacation from your vacation when you get back. A week is a long time to leave tasks and responsibilities unattended. Stay-cations (where we stay home and do relaxing things close to home) can be restorative. However, most of us are pulled in by all the responsibilities that are part of our regular life. There are people, pets, housework, bills, and phone calls that need our attention.

A 24-hr time-out can be a good compromise. It allows a couple some restorative time—to huddle together, discuss strategy, give each other pep talks, and get quick refreshments. It’s important to take these time-outs at strategic points in the game, especially when the opposition is strong. This might seem counterintuitive—to take a break when the game is at peak intensity—but this can disrupt the momentum, thus changing the outcome of the game in your favor.

Tomorrow I Will Come

On December 15^th, Sunday, I woke up in the middle of the night with this song in my head: “Rejoice, Rejoice, Emmanuel shall ransom captive Israel. Rejoice, rejoice, Emmanuel shall come to thee O Israel.” I kept thinking about these lyrics and what they meant as I lay awake. Rejoice, God is with us. He shall ransom us from bondage--free us from the grasp of evil. The Savior shall come to us, because He has chosen to be with us.

Later that morning, I heard the same hymn at church—which is not unusual since it is Christmas season. However, when I picked up the church bulletin and saw an article about this song, it caught my attention. Here is what I read in the church bulletin: Benedictine monks wrote this song with seven stanzas, each with a title for the Messiah.

Emmanuel—God-with-us

Rex Gentium—King of the Nations

Oriens—Morning Star

Clavis David—Key of David

Radix Jesse—Root of Jesse

Adonai—Lord

Sapientia—Wisdom

“The first letter of the titles in Latin, starting with the last verse—Emmanuel, Rex, Oriens, Clavis, Radix, Adonai, Sapienta—spells ERO CRAS—that is “Tomorrow, I will come.” (from the church bulletin—Basilica St. John, Des Moines, Iowa)

God is Present. He is Powerful. He brings Light into darkness. He is the Key that opens locked doors. He keeps us Rooted and stable. He is Lord and Savior. In Him is all Wisdom. 

Red Convertibles

A higher education can lead to a job, which, in turn, may provide enough money to pay expenses. This is a necessary part of life. Yet, many of us mistake the means for the end. We imagine that education, title, career, and material wealth will bring fulfillment. By mid-life, most of us have accomplished what we set out to do and discover that we are still unsatisfied.

“Second journeys commence when the power of youth is gone. When the dreams of earlier years start to seem shallow and pointless, when anxiety and self-doubt rise to the surface, and when the possibility of failure presents itself—when the predictable jobs have been completed, when you find yourself saying: ‘Now what?’” (Fr. Gerald O’Collins. Second Journey)

I am at that ‘Now What’ fork in the road. I am not looking for another distraction—yet another red convertible to drive on scenic routes that lead me further away from true fulfillment.

Most of us resist the stereotypical clichés of mid-life—the red convertible, the toupee, the plastic surgery, the affair, etc. Yet, we keep seeking that elusive fulfillment in other, more subtle distractions. We join a cause and make a name for ourselves. We embark on new career paths. We build or buy a bigger house and fill it with articles that reflect our sophistication. We take exotic trips, hike up mountains, jump off airplanes, and learn to scuba-dive—hoping that all these experiences will bring fulfillment.

Basically, it’s like buying a blue convertible and pretending that we are not as predictable as the guy in the red convertible.

Now What? How do we find this fulfillment for which we yearn?

I don’t know…but I suspect that there might be a clue in the following excerpt:

“But now you have arrived at your destination…By faith in Christ you are in direct relationship with God…the fulfillment of God’s original promise (bond). (Gal. 3:24-27 MSG)

Mid-Life Skills

“Much of the work of mid-life is learning to tell the difference between people who are still dealing with their issues through you, and those who are really dealing with you as you really are.” (Falling Upward—by Richard Rohr)

Most relationships act as a magnifying lens, bringing the good and the bad into focus. Certain relationships bring out the best, while others expose weaknesses. By mid-life, we should be able to distinguish between a magnified image and a real image.

We gauge our own personas through the eyes of our friends and family. Often, the unverbalized question that underlies many relationships is: What does this say about me? If I have good friendships, it makes me feel like a valuable, kind person. When I have strained relationships, it makes me feel yucky. When others are disappointed in me, I feel like I must be a disappointment. I rarely pause to consider that maybe they are just disappointed in themselves, maybe they are merely using me as a magnifying lens to work out their own issues, or maybe their ideas about me are just distorted images of themselves.

I hope to learn this mid-life skill of differentiating between perception and reality. I want to learn to see others for who they are—not based on images that are filtered through my own unresolved issues. And, I want to have a clearer understanding of myself—not based on reflections of others—but an undistorted image of who I really am.

The Second Half

In his book, Falling Upward, Richard Rohr discusses the differences between the first half and second half of one’s life. He writes: “The task of the first half of life is to create a proper container for one’s life and answer the first essential questions: “What makes me significant?” “How can I support myself?” and “Who will go with me?” The task of the second half of life is, quite simply, to find the actual contents that this container was meant to hold and deliver.” He mentions that those who do not complete their first half developmental stages will continue working on these tasks well into their second half.

Most of us, who are past 40 years of age and still dealing with issues of significance, financial security, and relationships, are lagging in our development. We are like 5-year-olds who are still not potty-trained. We should have different priorities and agendas in the second half of life than we did in the first half.

Let’s compare the first half of life to climbing up one side of a mountain and the second half as coming down on the other side. Once you reach the top and enjoy the view for a bit, you have to leave enough time and energy to come down the other side of the mountain. Ascending requires striving and stamina, while descending requires balance, caution, and good knees. The last time I climbed up a mountain, I kept focusing on the peak. How much farther? How come these other climbers are going faster than I am? Am I going to make it to the top? On the way down, my focus changed to the next step. I was not at all concerned about anyone else’s speed. I just kept looking down at my own feet, focusing on keeping my balance and not tumbling down the mountain. 

During the second half of life, we grow more introspective and less competitive. We are no longer embellishing our containers. Instead we are focused on the purpose of these containers—to hold and deliver something beyond our own significance, happiness, or comfort. Our goals have changed. We have already reached the peaks of worldly priorities, and now our focus turns inward to soul transcendence. We are no longer impressed by human accomplishments—which pale in comparison to Omnipotence. We have matured beyond grasping--to gasping.