Confession XLXVIII

Tie your shoelace.

Sit down.

Stare at a sunset.

Let twelve o’clock be your new start.

Run as fast as you can as fast as you can as the world spins swirl wind-whirl passing stars on both sides upside-down right-side of the sidewalk out of the water whistle fall gallons upon gallons of rain collected storms and sunshine and picturesque models for life all strained through the same heavens into two-eye sight looking glass; it’s all about perspective.

I went for a walk.  Today.  Out back in the woods.  Walked on the last snows Christmastime left.  Slipped on the ice.  Caught my breath.  Fell down a hill.  Kept my step.  And regained my walk.  Out back in the woods.

I went alone. Left because I couldn’t let the day pass without experience.  Experiencing the day for all its fullness.  Or its full-of-potential, if you look at it that way since its fullness depends on your meeting the day to experience such magnitude, weight, burdens, relief; the day holds so much, but it’s what we’re looking for that we’ll get.

And I went looking for God. 

And I went to places I’d never been before.  Walked steps I never stepped before.  Left my house a way I never left before. 

I don’t afford myself the freedom to be random enough of the time.  I play by schedules and routine.  There’s always an underlying agenda to the day.  There’s never just me and the day like we’re two separate entities meeting up to complete what is only natural: living.

Wash your hands.

Turn on the radio.

Hide under the covers.

Stop to breathe.

Today I went to stop.  And I did.  Stop.  I sat on a boulder set off the road.  The sun glared in my eyes.  As I looked around.  Breathtaking.  Wonderful.  Broken brush.  Old trees folded like linens, but not with as much care.  Dead grey branches flung flopped over more like laundry still in its basket after a wash.  The wind never moved.  Planes in the distance.  Engines sputtering.  Cold on my neck.  Not cold enough to see my breath. 

Button up.

Take a step.

Climb a hill.

Find yourself miles from home.  And call it your home.  And find that you’re always at home.  And let life live as it was born to live: limitless.  Without bounds.  No fences.  No borders. 

Die when you’re seventy.

Feel alive the moment before you die.

Realize your heartbeat.  Realize your breath-beat.  Realize the sun beating down.  Realize beading rain on rainy days.  Realize beating your lethargy will wake you up.  Realize “hellos” and “goodbyes” as a never-ending cycle to your moving on, growing up, gaining wisdom, insights, knowledge, acknowledging that life continues even when you don’t continue on.

So stop a while.

Do something you’ve never done.

Check the box marked “Not Ordinary.”  And see what you’ve signed up for.

Commit your way to the Lord;

   trust in him, and he will act.

(Psalm 37:5)

Sometimes life doesn’t look the way you wanted it to.  Let me rephrase that by saying most of the time life doesn’t look the way you wanted it to.  But one thing is for sure: if we give over our everyday to the Lord, he will remain faithful. 

Today I took a walk out back in the woods and returned home.  It was simple.  It wasn’t normal.  And it was new. 

I needed a change in life and that change was a dirt road right behind where I sleep.  It’s always been there.  I just never ventured out back. 

We need to come to the point in life where we are aware of our surroundings.  And if we are not aware, then we need to adventure.  We need to explore.  Not for the mere sake of becoming aware, but for the simple fact that as human beings breathing some possible seventy year life, we need to live.  And how can we ever truly live if we don’t change the rhythm of –

Untie your shoelace,

Stand up,

Walk into the sun –

Life?

May you find God in a new way today.  And may you change your life if even in the slightest.  Then may you truly understand what it is to live.