The Changing Of Seasons
The changing of seasons has brought a whole new world of sights and sounds to life around me. As I sit at my desk in front of the window I hear dozens of different types of birds singing in the back yard. The bird feeder hanging on the pine tree in front of me requires a weekly refilling as it has become a gathering place for a communal meal and conversations in song. I hear children playing in the backyard next door and am reminded that once upon a time I too knew how to laugh and play without being bothered by thoughts of the weightier things in life.
To the right, as I look through the reading room window I see a tree that has just recently exploded with brilliant white flowers. To my left a tree shadowing the corner of the porch which I've yet to identify is unergoing a slow-motion eruption of deep burgundy blooms. Patches of green are beginning to appear scattered throughout the yard. And almost every day a squirrel skitters about on the back porch and as he looks at me through the screen door I can almost imagine that he's come once again to ask if I can come out and play.
The change of seasons on the other side of the window coincides with a change of seasons underway in my soul. It's a strange change of seasons, one that I've never before experienced. Unlike the perfectly-timed, predictable, unending rotation that occurs outside the window every twelve months, this one has come upon me like a stranger in the night and I find myself both intrigued that perhaps my life is about to explode in color and beauty, yet fearful that instead I may be entering a long, dark, cold winter.
If springtime is indeed about to burst forth in my soul, I see it being heralded by new appreciations and desires growing within me. I find myself wanting to be surrounded by life. One bird feeder in my yard isn't enough. If it wasn't for the expense, I would place one on every tree in the yard to seduce hundreds, even thousands of birds into taking up residence on my little piece of earth just so I could enjoy watching them and listening to their songs. Though I've yet to begin the project, I have the seeds and the intent to construct a butterfly garden near the porch. I've been obsessed lately with the desire to adopt a dog. And as strange as it may seem, I find myself more interested in handling, observing, and enjoying insects that choose to wander upon my person than killing them out of annoyance (with the exception of the large fly that stubbornly insisted on buzzing my head as I tried to fall asleep the other night. He met with a sudden demise after landing upon the wall within reach of my hand.)
I find myself longing for simplicity. I shared with Lynn over breakfast one morning recently that I am weary of investing myself into maintaining a lifestyle while the things that really make my heart come alive remain just outside of my reach. A life of simpliciy and enjoyment of the more important things in life - faith, hope, and love - is becoming more and more important to me, even if poverty is the pricetag on such a life.
Such are the things in my soul that cause me to wonder if a beautiful new season of life is about to begin.
But then there is the fear that I am instead heading into a long, cold winter. To some degree I have always been more at home in the inner world of my mind than in the crowd of humanity. I've always been more adept at reflection and writing than conversation and relationships. But these days I find myself becoming even more and more silent, unable to speak with my voice, unable to converse and enjoy the company of most people. I don't believe that I dislike people more. Instead, I find myself simply having nothing to say that I believe would be of benefit to another person. Many times I allow the voicemail message on my phone to do the talking for me, even when I know that the person calling is someone I love and care for.
I'm also becoming more and more convinced of my uselessness in regards to the most important things in life. My greatest desire and my greatest fear have always revolved around the same event; my death. At the hour of my death my greatest desire has always been that I would be able to look around and see a world that has benefitted from my existence. And at the same time my greatest fear has always been that in that hour I would face the reality that my life has meant nothing to anyone. I recently attended the funeral of a 50-something year old man who died in his sleep one Sunday afternoon following church. The funeral home was filled beyond capacity with people having to be turned away from the chapel to watch the service on television in a spare room. I left that day wondering how quiet and empty the funeral home will be when my hour arrives. I find myself more convinced of my ability to make wrong decisions instead of right ones. Likewise I find myself more convinced of my ability to say the wrong things at the wrong times than speaking anything of edifying benefit to anyone. I am more keenly aware than ever of the self-centeredness that rules my mind and the abscence of the Christ-like self-sacrifice that I long for in my character.
Within the last week God has spoken a phrase into my heart and mind. "Intentional Obscurity" He has said to me that He has intentionally placed me in a season of obscurity and in response I am to intentionally embrace that obscurity, rest in it, and make no attempt to leave it until I am unmistakenly called out of it by Him. I believe that perhaps the season that comes next will depend on my response to this season of obscurity. Either the life and beauty of spring or the cold darkness of winter await me. Resting in the embrace of God-ordained obscurity will lead me into a springtime teeming with life, while struggling to attain prominence and usefulness through my own efforts will bring a lonely chill to the air.
I've chosen to create a new blog to chronicle this season for a couple reasons. First, I have to write. It is the only effective way for me to process what is happening in me. Secondly, I am doing it publicly because I continue to hold out hope that there is someone in the world who may in some way benefit from seeing how God is dealing with a guy in South Carolina who is desperately reaching for the God who made everything on the other side of the window.