theo|digital

In recent weeks, the flow of selfishness has been so strong that today – for a few minutes – I felt completely unworthy to be leading in this community. My inability to quell my criticism, my untempered greed. Fortunately, my pride returned me to a sense of self-security, my resilient self-image responsive to the way I numb my spirit if it causes emotional distress.

To want to know the heart of God?
To have mine match?

I’ve learned this. When I am faltering, it’s not my heart that is attacked. It’s my heart’s desire. It’s not my character that is assaulted. It’s my desire to have character. It’s the word “want” tentatively inserted with a quiet question mark that slips in and begins the poison.

When my own passion fades – then I’m the one making the choice to slow the journey. I am not Pilgrim hindered by peril, sword, and beast. I am hindered by self-inflicted leak in my own resolve. I take a rest stop on the path because I want to.

This is how it feels to be held back on a spiritual journey. The spiritual lactic acid. After running 15 miles, you start to wonder why you wanted to run the marathon in the first place. What was the point?

So my response to my heart isn’t to beat it into submission, but to remind it of the God whose unimaginable peace, satisfying justice, love-that-works-right-every-time is ready to make mine more like his. And how I WANT this.

The goodbye party was unexpected. And I laughed: hard. I grinned and shook my head and wiped tears as the 3 students of my project group – and especially the North Dakota crew – performed 5 skits – mostly impressively accurate impressions of my idiosyncrasies.

I walked away with the love and laughter still reflecting on the inside surfaces of my heart: the memories drawing recurring warmth and grace.

It was really good.

And now here I am back in the Courtyard Café – sipping my small Americano from Espresso – seeing Mandy and Josh – writing here to simply think and pray a bit.

I haven’t done that as much recently: prayed. I think my heart – drawn out initially by the gospel of John and Acts – has now slowed and hardened. My Treo – and with it my primary Bible – died two weeks ago, and it’s remarkable the effect it’s had on my Spirit. My king – I want my heart to match yours. Please draw me.

I’m supposed to be heading to Chicago ASAP for to visit some of my friends and partners. Planned to go tomorrow, but the DawgHaus kitchen (not to mention the Den, the entire upstairs, etc) is completey torn up. They’re laying new stone and dust tile today – and the walls are becoming a comfortable latte brown. It’s so cool getting a new kitchen. And Monte is here! So weird that he’s going to be a Dawg now. I mean, we’ve known it for six months, but it actually happening.

Only one week left here in Colorado. wow.

The YMCA is surrounded by mountains of all levels of majesty, and it’s fun to stare the range around us and imagine a sudden transport to the summit… to look back at the spot you’re standing from miles away. Longs peak is behind our dorm… the three peaks of CC&Y to the front.

The nearest rock pile that could possibly be labeled a mountain is “Eagle Cliff.” A short walk from our dorm to the base, the cliff overlooks Moraine Park – the center of the National Park, as well as Estes Park, and the Y. Not that I knew this from experience – just pictures. Although many people make this their first hike, I decided here in my last week that I should probably try it out – maybe as my last hike.

Just me, my Camelbak, and God this morning as I set off on the trail – which immediately appears to go straight up the side of the mountain. It feels like that too – leg burn that requires short rests every 50 feet.

And I invited God into my thoughts.

Maybe the hiking-as-life metaphor is overdone, but it found me anyway. While hiking I lost the trail. I had to rest often. I few times I felt discouraged – my legs hurt, my lungs were uncomfortable, and it the goal of reaching the top became less important. “why would I need to continue?” I wondered. “I’m content with how far I’ve gone,” something in my head stated. “stop. feel better,” my knees said.

I told a group of people at dinner the other day that I’m not like Nick. He likes to summit mountains for the challenge. I said that I don’t find that my motivation. Beauty is the reason I hike, but if it becomes unpleasant past a certain level -I don’t see a reason to continue.

This is how I find myself living my spiritual life. Forward moving until it hurts – then, when it does (and it always does) – seeking immediate rest, pleasure, and escape. And more disconcerting: I don’t know if I really have a strong desire to summit the mountain that God has me on. Survival, and nice interludes are enough to make me content. If the top hurts too much – if the weather is too inclement – I’m done.

Today is my day off. The upside to living in the YMCA community is all the people you see: walking through the dorm floors, in the employee cafeteria, in the lounges, and in the coffee shop. The downside is all the people you see.

It’s just hard to get time alone. And not just logistically, although that’s definitely part of the challenge. It’s also difficult for me to discipline my personality to the point where I can go away from the people. Three times this evening I tried to make an effort to leave the group, or to find my own space and time to pray and think. And all three times I changed my plans to talk to the new person who had just walked by, or the group that wanted me to join them.

People are too enticing for me.