Things Fall Apart

In the past year for my family and I, a lot of things have fallen
apart. The washer, drier, air conditioner, roof, the car, the truck,
espresso machine, the building flooded, and even my bones. There was
even one Sunday before church I asked God, “What else can break?” As I
was tying my shoes, my shoelace broke. I couldn’t help but laugh. The
hardest things that fell apart have been some close relationships,
which have taken serious devotion to prayer, forgiveness, and letting
go.

See, these things falling apart have not been a curse, but rather a
blessing. About a year ago, Kasity and I said a prayer, asking of God,
“If it is not real, if it is not important, let it fall apart. Let us
see the world as you see it.” And so it began. Ultimately, the washer
and dryer don’t matter. The building doesn’t matter, nor do the car or
truck. My back will heal. Even the lost relationships will find God
continuing to work in all lives involved toward the furthering of His
kingdom, even if we aren’t participating side by side.

See, we Christians are called to simplicity, yet live in a complicated
web of demands, bills, things that break, and things we want or feel
we can’t live without. We are called to deny our body and feed our
Spirit, but our body has its way of demanding constant attention,
especially when it is uncomfortable. We are called to relationships,
even though some present a problem of sacrificing righteousness for
peace.

While on vacation in Massachusetts, we happened upon Walden Pond,
where Henry David Thoreau spent two years, two months, and two days
living in relative solitude. A plaque near where his small cabin was
quotes his explanation of the retreat, “I went to the woods because I
wished to live deliberately, to front only the essential facts of
life, and see if I could not learn what it had to teach and not, when
I came to die, discover that I had not lived.”

We have no plans to retreat from the woods, but are trying to retreat
from the things that do not matter and sort out what, in serving God
with our lives, does matter. As a paraphrase of Thoreau’s purpose in
solitude, let me state for our Christian life:

I prayed for God to crumble all that does not matter because I wish to
live in such a way that does, to hold fast only to what is true, to
front only the essential reality of faith, and see if I could not
learn what it had to teach and not, when I came to die, discover that
I had only partially lived out my faith.

It is not that we are to sell our washers and driers, cars and
computers, but to see them for what they are, things that break,
things that don’t bring life. It is that we are to seek and find what
really DOES matter in living with the belief in a good god who is
constantly prodding us to deep life, which does require a grand
abandonment for great faith. This is what Jesus was talking about when
he said “I have not come to abolish (Greek for decay) . . . but to
fulfill (to bring life).” -Matthew 5:17

Let us see the world as it is, see what falls apart as what falls
apart, and hold fast to – and participate in what brings life. The
world should be allowed to crumble, and in those times we should also
allow God to (at the same time) give us life. It’s not the matter of
his giving, it’s a matter of our seeing and receiving.

See you at the watering hole.