Coffee, Interruptions and Wide Open Fields
This coffee is just the right temperature this morning. Hot enough that it feels fresh, but cool enough that I can do more than a fearful, tight-lipped sip on the edge of the cup.
It’s an ordinary thing, this morning coffee ritual, but it signifies much more to me. Because pain is highest in the morning, the quicker I can get to the corner of the couch with my meds and coffee, plug in the massager behind my back, the quicker I can get relief while the meds kick in. I NEED this quiet time and comfy space in order to get through the hours until the meds have activated and then I can stand up and get on with my day.
So whether I like it or not, whether I want to or not, I sit quietly for an hour in the morning, committed to waiting for relief. And as I do, I spend time with Jesus . . . it has become sacred.
“But what if our interruptions are in fact our opportunities, if they are challenges to an inner response by which growth takes place and through which we come to the fullness of being?” Henri Nouwen
These interruptions, setbacks, challenges, delays, waiting times and losses are the sacred places where we can experience Jesus. But we resist, we distract ourselves, we keep busy. We cannot stand the thought of just sitting in our pain, in our loss and letting it sink in. We are afraid to cry or we’ll cry too much. We don’t want to examine our past for fear that we will get stuck there. Sadness? Too afraid of becoming too sad.
And yet, life is not in our control. Interruptions happen.
Interruptions are like leaves in a salad. The salad is not a salad without those leaves. (Okay, yes . . . greek salads, bean salads) But really, our plans, our schedules, our calendars are just our way of organizing priorities in our lives and scheduling them into a day. But that is all we can do . . . schedule. It doesn’t mean that is how things are going to go.
My life is not what I thought it would be. As we come around the year toward our 30th wedding anniversary, 29 of those years, I’ve been in pain, in and out of doctors’ offices, hospitals, labs, x-ray, mri, ultrasound, physiotherapy over and over again. That was not the life I pictured or wanted.
And yet, from the deepest part of my soul, I would do it all again for the privilege of knowing Jesus as I do now. He has not healed my physical pain, but he has healed my self-image, my self-compassion, my emotional wounds, my fears and insecurities, led me toward more opportunities to love people and use my skills and talents. God has freed me! I don’t need to please people, I don’t need to have a good first impression or clever things to say, or impress people with my clothes, car, skills, white teeth, toned body and firm handshake. I’ve learned to sit still with nothing in my hands: no media, music or entertainment. I’ve learned how to leave a party early, how to graciously say no, how to spend day/days in pain without being irritable, how to be alone, how to love others while I’m in pain and how to ask for help — which may be the most challenging of all. And this is all the transforming work of God!
David wrote this in the Psalms and I full-heartedly relate!
“But me he (God) caught—reached all the way from sky to sea; he pulled me out of that ocean of hate, that enemy chaos, the void in which I was drowning. They hit me when I was down, but God stuck by me.
He stood me up on a wide-open field; I stood there saved—surprised to be loved!” Psalm 18:19
And often, when I pray, I picture myself in Psalm 18, having been rescued from the things that held me captive (pride and more pride). I picture myself sopping wet, now standing, in an open field, safe, secure, and feeling loved. What a beautiful rescue.
What do you wish you could be rescued from? What holds you captive, keeps you afraid, keeps you checking your lists, or ruminating over past conversations . . . Know that you’re not alone. The more we can admit our sins, confess them to God and to each other and ask for God’s freedom in that area, the more we begin to see the surface of the water that we’ve been drowning in. We begin to long for that dry, open space . . . so we become fiercely resistant to anything that seeks to capture and pull us down again.
Praying today, that you will find a quiet space and place and sit with Jesus. Just sit, listen, look around you, listen, see what God brings to your mind. Ask Him to renew your heart and mind and give you freedom!
