Peaks and Valleys (and an apologetic life)

Today (Saturday) is the first day since Monday that my little girl and I have exited our home, except for the backyard/deck.  We live in a very wooded subdivision; and when ice comes, it tends to stick around for a while.  One would have thought this week would have yielded much fruit for a writer, but I felt no inspiration to write at all, until now.

I’ve noticed that it’s easy to go into an introspective mode when you’re all “cooped” up, and I did just that.  And one of the things I realized during this week of turning inward is that I have a strong tendency to live my life as if it’s simply one big apology.  I’ve kidded about this often with my seventy-something widow friend from Ireland, about feeling as if I’m somehow responsible for happenings that preceded my birth even.  So, I’ve actually known this about myself for a long time, and I’m even pretty sure that I’ve blogged about it before; I just thought that I had changed in this area much more than I really have.

As I type, I’m remembering what Paul, the author of those lovely New Testament epistles, says in them.  He tells us that there is no condemnation for those of us who are in Christ; and “no condemnation” certainly must include “self-condemnation,” right?  Yes, it must.  I know this to be true; I simply have a really hard time living as if it is.  There are “messes” all around me, several of which are found in the lives of people whom I dearly love; and I can find no way to fix them.  And I thus feel broken right now.

And I think to myself, “If only I was a better friend or relative or lover or this or that, then their ‘messes’ wouldn’t be what they are.”  Or would they?  Do I really have that much control?  Am I truly capable of being their, of being anyone’s, fixer?  Am I God?  Most certainly not.  Then why do I continue to insist upon taking on the burdens of the world?  Because I’m no less a mess than anyone else is.  Self-deification is an easy mode to slip into as well when you’re all cooped up.  No, I can’t play God’s part, only the one he’s given me–I must intercede for those I love.  And I mustn’t be surprised that I feel as if I’m in a high-walled valley, since just a week ago I felt like I was on top of the world.  It’s all predictable.

Yes, living in this world is sort of like competing in an athletic event.  We trip/fall; we get knocked down/over; we see someone we care about getting pummeled but we know that we must keep going; we make it across one line only to realize that another awaits; we feel our knees buckling and our hearts growing rather faint; we get a second wind; and the cycle continues.  And we cannot compete on behalf of another; we must all be responsible for our own “event.”  Paul knew this.  He uses both a boxing match (1 Corinthians 9) and a long-distance run (Hebrews 12) to talk about life down here as a Christ-follower.  And he encourages us to live, whether on a peak and or in a valley, with our eyes not on our or others’ shortcomings and not on our or others’ burdens but with our eyes on the prize–and the prize is Christ.