Solitude and the Funk

My daughter came home in August. My son was born in December. I had zero kids in my house in July, and now I have two that are in diapers. It was a shock to the system. This is no surprise to anyone, including me.

Of course I love my kids, but the reason it was such a shock I think is because there are certain things that keep me sane that I couldn't do anymore. Specifically, finding time to read and exercise. I used to get up early in the morning and read scripture, read other books, and run. It was part of my routine for the longest time. Then all of a sudden I was getting up at the same time(after going to bed much later and getting up two or three times in between) with no break for me. I woke up, feet hitting the ground getting my kids ready for the day.

I still love that time in the mornings with them, but I went crazy for a bit because I couldn't find time to tap into the things that give me life. You can ask my wife, I was in a definite funk.

As the new normal started to dawn on me, and as I'm still trying to find time to read and run, I've come across some passages recently.

"Very early in the morning, while it was still dark, Jesus got up, left the house and went off to a solitary place, where he prayed."-Mark 1:35

This story is one of many where Jesus takes a break from his public ministry to be by himself. Even Jesus, the Savior of the World, had to get away every once in a while. I've always loved this passage because I can relate to Jesus in this way. I crave solitude. I love to be up early, just me and God, me and the quiet. My life is better when I can tap into these moments. As I began to open the pages more, I read passages of Jesus going to a garden to pray, getting in a boat with his best friends to escape crowds, and all other cool things Jesus does to disconnect.

And I envied that.

But as the funk slowly lifted from my life, it dawned on me that I was reading those passages with an agenda. I loved those verses because it's what I wanted to do at that present moment. When in reality that's not what any of the stories are about. The story isn't about Jesus getting away to pray. It's about him healing a leper five verses later. The story isn't about Jesus getting onto a boat with his friends. It's about him feeding 5,000 people. The story isn't about Jesus going to a garden to pray. It's about him going to the cross for humanity. Jesus always disconnected so when he was around people he could FULLY ENGAGE with them.

And that's the damage the funk caused in my life. I no longer cared about people like I said I did. I was a pastor, youth worker, who didn't really care about people anymore. I cared about my family, but really more than anything I cared about my reading schedule and my continually slowing mile time.

So I still crave that solitude. I'm still trying to figure out how I can exercise and read on a regular basis. Not because it's an end. Because when I do it allows me to engage people and be present with them. You see, my story is not about me. It's about God redeeming humanity. I've been blessed to see that unfold over the course of my life, and I'm so excited about who's next. This is how I know the funk is gone.

Resurrection is coming

Today, The Orchard sponsored the city's Easter Egg Hunt. 20,000 easter eggs get sucked up in about two and a half minutes. Neither of those numbers is an exaggeration. This year is my fifth year to be involved with it, and every year I'm amazed at the mad scramble for eggs. It's frenzied and chaotic and swift. For four years, I laughed at it all. This year was different.

This year, MY daughter was there. She was going to be searching for eggs. She was going to be in the midst of the frenzied chaos and hundreds of other kids. I wasn't as amused this year. I was a little scared for her. Turns out I had little to be scared about. She apparently picked up one egg, attempted to open it, and got bored.

As I was coming home today, it occurred to me I had zero kids at last years hunt. We had met Lucy, flown to see her, and flew back to Tupelo to pretend like life was normal. Although last year I did celebrate Easter, there was a tinge of sadness every time I thought about what we were missing. It was a difficult day. 

When my daughter plunged into the fray, I knew everything was worth it. If you asked me to do it all over again, I would gladly suffer through the financial uncertainty, the endless hoop jumping, the highs and lows. I'd do it all again tomorrow, because having my family together is worth it. I have a daughter. I have a son. 

God looked down at our need, saw that it was greater than us, and redeemed us. He voluntarily put himself through hell so that we wouldn't have to. I can't imagine what Christ went through, but I will celebrate differently, because when that's your child, you just do whatever it takes. 

God looked at us and did whatever it took so we could be called his children. 

Easter is coming tomorrow. Easter is the celebration of hope bursting onto the most hopeless of situations. Easter is the celebration of light consuming darkness. Easter is the celebration of resurrection. It is the celebration of God stopping at nothing to make sure his children belong to him. We are his children now, and nothing can change that. 

Get ready for tomorrow, resurrection is coming.