Day 21 – Driven or Drawn

I wonder why millions have turned to The Purpose Driven Life to find meaning and "reduce stress, simplify decisions and increase satisfaction." I’m not compelled to pick up a copy because being driven by anything puts me off. I might be drawn to a “greater purpose” but to be driven by one smacks of dropping my brain at the door and falling in line. To be driven seems to be contrary to Christ’s simple directive, “follow me.”

I’d rather be “drawn to” than “driven by”. Christ presents a way to follow. His life was the prime example of love and care and commitment to people on the margin of culture, to those cast out of society. I’m drawn to follow Him. In fact, it makes good sense to do so.

On the other hand, to be “driven” is to be whipped along in front of the one doing the driving. We are not to be the whipping boy of some greater purpose conjured up in an emotionally charged moment. The only time Christ forced anyone to do anything was when he drove out the moneychangers in the temple courtyard. These culprits were driven to take advantage of an opportunity to make money at someone else’s expense. It is easy to adjust our purpose to suit ourselves and to be driven by it. It is harder to get off track when a person ahead marks the way, and all we need to do is follow.

So to be “driven” or “drawn”, which is it? Even if we say our purpose is to “follow Christ”, to be driven to follow is at best an oxymoron. We are pointedly foolish to think we are followers at the crack of a whip.

Day 15 – Late Night Writing

Waiting until 9 pm to write is not a great idea. My morning routine of reading and writing was supplanted by preparations for a workshop for which I had logistic responsibility. Making coffee took precedence over turning the pages of a good book and setting up the day’s food took priority over my early morning writing. Now I’m left with a numb mind and a groggy disposition. I’m gutting my way through the process and wonder how many times out of 365 days I’ll leave my commitment to writing until near bedtime. I don’t have a minimum requirement for the number of words. I try to write at least 15 minutes and for no longer than 31 minutes. According to the clock I’ve met my minimum so that’s it for now.

Day 11 – Which Am I?

As Nouwen studied the painting he wondered which of the characters was operating in his life: the younger son – full of the excitement of an explorer, leaving home in search of his true identity, and yet squandering his money on loose living and having to return in shame to his father; the older son – faithful to his father and to the family farm, yet resenting his role and longing for the welcoming touch of his father; or the father – the one who receives others with grace and love, and whose role is to embrace the lost and comfort them.

At first glance, I see I have lived this past year as the prodigal son. I’ve lived freely without the constraints of a full time job. I’ve visited far off lands and people: New York City; the Sudan, Africa; and the Toronto area of Canada. At times I am haunted by the thought that I may have squandered resources of time and money without much of a result. I’ve wandered in and out of sink with God. I remember resting in the comfort of His embrace like the younger son and other times where I stood at a distance from Him, remaining aloof, feeling detached like the older son.

A few months ago I saw a t-shirt that said, “I need Africa more than Africa needs me.” That is one truth I have learned this year from visiting that multifarious land. It is a similar truth that I am relearning about God and from which I have drifted.

Main Street

Day 2 –

Main Street Bellevue, bathed in record heat, registered eighty-eight for a high today. Main Street Yabus, in the Sudan, Africa scorched by the sun day in and day out, is paved with dust. City people speed along crowded streets in air-conditioned comfort. The Sudanese walk from place to place barefoot. Too often in the U.S. when someone cuts another off, the first honks, shouts profanity or waves the finger. In Africa people have time to stop to shake your hand in a friendly greeting.

A few weeks ago I noticed a t-shirt with these words on the front, “I need Africa more than Africa needs me.” This is truth for me because during my short three weeks in that developing country I discovered people of extreme joy living in the harshest conditions. It is a struggle just to make shelter and find safe water to drink and food to eat. Yet, after fifty years of civil war, the country weakened by conflict hobbles toward unity and peace. The people have a great hope for a whole country. I learned much from Africa and still have much more to learn about joy, hope and peace.

365 Days of Writing for 31 Minutes

Day 1 – June 3, 2009

My mind and my feet spun along easily and automatically. The zone I was in surrounded me completely. I sensed time only in the periphery of movement and ideas. Ideas floated into thought like bubbles surfacing in seltzer. Two prevailed on the surface of my memory throughout the two-hour ride. The one demanded discipline and commitment. Would it last?

Yesterday a friend emailed a short article to me about committing a short time each day to work on a big project. I’ve had a long-term goal to do some writing, but not being a writer, I seem to put of “official” writing into some future time. The article quoted T.S. Elliot, “When forced to work within a strict framework the imagination is taxed to its upmost–-and will produce its richest ideas. Given total freedom the work is likely to sprawl.”

So, I’m setting a goal, a commitment to write for 31 minutes every day for one year, 365 days! I hope the discipline improves my writing and my life. I chose 31 minutes because it is small and arbitrary, just like the article suggests.