Get away

Some days you just have to get away.

It’s high noon and I’m sitting in a very trendy, environmentally-friendly café in downtown Asheville called “The Green Sage.” I got up this morning with a burning desire to get away. Not get away forever. Don’t worry: I’m not running for good. I just needed a change of scenery and a different thought process for a few hours today. I figured I could get done what I needed to do wherever. And my other stuff, well, it can wait a little while longer.

I guess I have the luxury of doing this today since I’m not working in an office nine-to-five. Believe me, I would rather be working a full day today. I need a job! I’m actually hoping to line some work up today. Until then, this curried chicken salad with raisins whole wheat wrap with a side of sweet potatoes fries will have to do. (And yes, it’s as good as it sounds.)

I haven’t blogged in a while. Writing can be therapeutic and with everything going on in life right now, a little therapy is what I need. So here goes.

I’ve spent the past six weeks since my dad’s passing processing sudden death and the shock of it all. We all know that you’re never prepared to lose someone you love. But when it’s sudden it seems even more difficult. Truth be told, that emotion comes from a very selfish place. Dad died exactly the way he always said that he wanted to: in his sleep. He did not suffer the horrors of chemo or struggle to breathe because of congestive heart failure. He simply told his family that he loved them and went to bed and woke up in heaven. What an incredible blessing for him.

The selfishness comes in that we did not get the long good-bye that some people get. Again, it’s a double-edged sword because with that long-goodbye usually comes suffering that is painful for everyone involved. But there is a measure of preparedness that must make all of this a little easier. I’m only speculating since I’ve never been in that place either.

The shock of someone being full of life one day and absolutely gone the next brings our mortality front and center. And it screams that all those clichés are true: “you’re not guaranteed tomorrow” and “live like you were dying.” We’ve heard each of those sayings hundreds of times. I believe it’s time to try and figure out how to live as if every day is my last.

There’s a great deal of irony in that last sentence. For me, 2008 has been a year of great loss and gut-wrenching grief. The year began tenuously yet hopeful. I was hopeful that some things that were obviously headed in the wrong direction would find the right course. And as hard as I tried to get those things on track, the difficult reality has been that I cannot fix everything and I am not supposed to be able to fix things. I also cannot understand everything. I cannot explain everything and I do not have an answer for all the questions (as much as some people want me to give them).

Here’s what I do know: God is ultimately in control. I believe that to my core. But there’s a rub in that truth. In God’s hard-to-understand ways (that most people never truly accept even though they say they do), He gives us free will, also known as the ability to make choices. And along with the freedom to make those choices comes the responsibility for the consequences. See the rub? God is in control but He gives us a measure of control called choices. What we do with our choices and whether or not we allow Him to guide our choices makes all the difference in the world.

Kind of deep, right? Most of life is really deep, complicated and complex, my friends.

I have also learned this year that there are people who really don’t want to deal with the depth and complexity of life’s great struggles. (I confess that I have been that person before.) As believers, the church often peddles an easy gospel of “trust God and everything will be okay.” That is true but the rub comes in how we live that truth out --- how we walk with people at the very moments when their worlds are falling apart. Most people are quick to dispense advice to the hurting about how to fix whatever is wrong in their lives and then their work is done. That’s the simple solution that I have seen from many people. “Tell me what’s wrong and I’ll tell you what to do.”

But that kind of superficial advice rarely takes away the pain or fixes the situation. It may be well-intentioned but it only makes the adviser feel better. To think that we can dispense advice to others about how to fix their lives yet we have never truly walked in their shoes is frighteningly presumptuous. I confess that I’ve done it many times and I’ve had it done to me. Having been on the unfortunate receiving side for a while now, I vow to try my best to never do it again.

Okay, I’m all over the board with this post, I know. There’s a lot swirling in my brain. Remember: I’m writing today for my personal therapy. And if you’re still reading at this point, I’m amazed and I thank you.

I think I’ll stop for now. My after lunch half-decaf/half-regular coffee is about cold and it’s getting time to head down the road towards home. I’m curious to know what you think about my thoughts. Comments (agreeable and disagreeable) are always welcome. I’ll write more soon.