“To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; to know that even one life has breathed easier because you have lived – that is to have succeeded” Ralph Waldo Emerson
I’m spending some time alone in a crowd this morning. That’s what soul care can look like for an introvert in a crisis of sorts. The sun is out and blue skies everywhere, but I’m enveloped in a rather dark cloud. A year long relationship with a therapist has helped me recognize when the clouds roll in I need to find or fashion an umbrella. The umbrella for me has come in the form of creating some alone time in a crowd. I have a favorite place in each of my neighborhoods. Today happens to be sitting at the window in Starbucks in the midst of a weekly downtown Farmers Market. From this seat I can see at least a remnant of what life was like here in pre-Covid times. What little physical presence of the in-person Amazon workforce remains will be concentrated here for a few hours today as it is each Thursday. I am, ironically, drawing comfort and peace from what used to honestly annoy me about this space.
While I won’t even begin to claim that my experience these past 18 months has been as devastating as it has been for many … I still have my job, my health, most of my friends, an incredibly beautiful, loving and supporting wife, family that I am endlessly proud of … I reluctantly need to admit that this season of Covid has kicked my ass. I may be reluctant, but I feel that I need to own this reality … as do many others I am guessing. In the earlier days of this chapter someone wisely reminded us that “We are not all in the same boat … We may be in the same storm, but our boats look very different”. Some are yachts, some are leaky canoes, and some I fear are the broken door that Rose clung to in the last minutes of “Titanic”. Thinking of the boat in a storm analogy, I’m guessing mine has been a fairly sporty and swift ski boat that has lost its rudder. I’ve come to understand that the rudder on my boat has been my purpose. If you don’t know boating language, it will be helpful to note that a rudder gives a boat its direction. So one could imagine walking by my boat tied up in the marina and admiring its sleek lines and imagining it out on the water kicking up a decent wake while towing a load of fun behind it. But you can’t generally see beneath the water. The surprise, and probably disappointment would come when the boat is untied and the motor engaged … boats without rudders tend to go in circles. It may not have looked like it from a casual pass by of my life, but that is exactly what is going on beneath my surface.
“So you lost your purpose, what a shame”. I have imagined this to be a sort of condescending attitude to my confession … and honestly it’s kept me fairly silent. It’s only really been shared with two people (one of them paid) I fully understand that losing ones purpose does not compare to losing ones life, a loved one, a job, a home. I am just doing what I desperately need to do for my own well being … and maybe it will encourage others who are playing my comparison game. I am dealing with my own boat and riding the storm while trying to make repairs. See, my overall macro purpose can be illustrated by the Ralph Waldo Emerson quote accompanying this post. But you really need a micro purpose that helps you more specifically lean into the larger one. My first fulfillment of this was my calling out of manufacturing engineering and into 20 plus years as a pastoral artist. I think I was pretty good at it … in the end, more people appreciated my existence than didn’t … so there’s that. As time went by, I began to realize that more specific than pastoring, I was being called to be a creator of community focused intentionally on pursuing Jesus. I don’t know about your particular church experience, but honest people will tell you there is plenty of mixed motives for being in a church and many have little to do with actually pursuing Jesus. That part became exhausting.
So we left traditional pastoring and set our rudder on creating more intimate and intentional community in the midst of a relatively disconnected city. Eventually all of my calling, experience, passion, and paths led to establishing a space in the heart of the city that broadly created a place for Jesus inspired connections and community … for cultivating the soul mere blocks from thousands of rather isolated residents. Dreams of thriving faith communities, artistic expressions, cultural events, deep conversations and support groups all came to a halt in March of 2020. How do you created community and spaces for people who can’t and or don’t have any desire to gather together? And if you answer “Zoom” I will personally find you and relate to you why that is the wrong answer. If your answer is “What till things get back to normal” I will also respectfully agree to disagree on that one. If you think that is the answer, I’d like to refer you to the thousands of pastors whose thousands of church attendees have mysteriously (or not) disappeared during the pandemic. I am owning that things will probably never be the same, nor should they be. So I’m choosing to move on. I still cling to my greater purpose but, I’m not leaving the dock for awhile until I’ve fully addressed my rudder issue … it’s a work in progress.
All of this to say to you … people are in different boats and are dealing with the limitations and conditions of their unique vessels so:
- Be kind
- Be patient
- Be sensitive
- Be available
- Be self-aware
- Be honest
- Be safe
- Be
and may you all be able to fashion umbrellas when the clouds roll in and may you be able to find peace in the storm.