Writer's write.....that continues to haunt me some. Not that I strive so much to be known as a writer, but when I write I often do feel the pleasure of God. It seems something I have been given that needs to be exercised and not garaged. Yet I get caught up in so many things that scuttle it all. Things like, "I don't really have anything to say or write about", "what about being read vs anonymously just writing" (journal vs blog), "to really enjoy the process I must be inspired, must be "pregnant, in order for the words to flow without much effort".
It has now been over a year since firing up 500' Flyby. As has happened before, I couldn't even figure out how to get to my own blog...at least not in a manner that would actually let me write a new post. Feels so ironic, like you are no longer even invited to the party that you yourself are hosting...
So write 500 words a day has been offered as a discipline for the "writers write" school of establishing some momentum. Writing as discipline is not so inviting (if I am to be honest). I'm aware of a lurking laziness that so prefers the inspired, lightning-key-stroke school rather than the paralysis of staring-at-a-blank-page-and grind-it out approach.
But enough about writing ..I fumbled my way back here today seeking to give shape to an amorphous blob of vague, dis-jointed thought threads that seem to be begging to be born into some semblance of articulated clarity.
With more years behind me than ahead of me, I find myself trying to make sense of what my mom would call my "so-called life". Classic search for meaning kind of stuff. Yesterday found me doing the chore of spring raking and burning some pine needles (if ever I could find a use for these sproingy, brown, 4-inch devils I would be a seriously rich man!). I took advantage of the hot fire to burn what some would simply bring to a shredder. Sandi had a couple of small boxes of old documents, receipts and records. As I gradually threw them into the fire, I noticed old hospital bills that spoke of the devastation and tragedy of Rich's medical misfortunes. There was also a notebook from 1980 with handy pockets used for Flegle budgeting.
I watched as the flames consumed the notebook full of the hopes of better managing life by using monthly budget controls. There were all kind of receipts including way too many medical bills for central lines and lab tests that marked the unraveling of what had been. To me, the flames seemed to mock the irrelevancy of the past. Back in that day, it was all so invested with vitality, dreams and hope. And now, fast-forwarded 35 years, the flames merely smirked at the essence of lost life obliterated by the blazing orange heat. Perspective seems so much more a living category when one's years of life pile up into a critical mass of experiences.
The way we were (cue Redford/Streisand)....poignant stuff...at least for me. I chalk it off to my own internal yearning for the 4th act of my eternalness. A place/time where the maxim "all good things must pass" is no longer true. I know of this Kingdom, I am a citizen of this Kingdom but today I write from the ache of the "already but not yet"....not yet Santiago, not yet.
And what of an Instagram of the right now you might ask? Well, that is a horse of an entirely different color. A color not of nostalgic, maudlin, bittersweet hues, but of hotter colors that elicit un-invited angst and a vague sense of the recording that blares out just before the plane's impact..."BRACE", "BRACE". Ok, ok, no agreements but that is at least how it feels. In my quest for catharsis, I write into this.....
It's a life-stage thing. Two years out from 70 and the start of collecting SS. Dear wife less than a year away from collecting 1/2 of my file/suspend. With work, it's not quite time to hang it up (will it ever be?). I do have my 68th year in the bank corral. My 69th year is what I am working on these days and I have some part of it (not too anxious to calculate how much lest I lull myself into some kind of un-plugged, lazy stupor). Suffice it to say that as I fly my recruiting plane on daily missions I find that I have started to look for suitable landing places where I might put it down...either permanently or for some kind of 'guerrilla, touch-and-go' strategy.
Get the picture?? It's a delicate time financially for 453. Sandi is on the dark side of the moon until January. No income will be coming from her direction until then. Meanwhile, I am working on staying one year ahead...even further if I can. Why? Because I am still traumatized by the many years of barely making it and holding my breath through the too-long-spaces between placements. This was the hallmark of too many years. Financial security as an idol you might posit? Yes,my outlook would be hard to spiritually defend. Even now as I write, I determine to be open to loosening my grip on the present strategy and be open to Kingdom alternatives that may be required.
Superimposed on the above is what I have sloppily termed the "453 Holocaust" (def. great or total destruction of life). Although a completely overstated, inaccurate term, it somehow does a good job of reflecting the feelings that accompany the tsunami reported to be heading our way. You see it was 20 years ago that a family death occurred and the method of coping for two siblings has brought us to the present circumstances. One, now married and with an in-process-adoptive set of island little ones in tow, is in need of a platform from which she can re-launch her life. But with no funds and a health status that finds her physically, psychologically and emotionally crippled, to say there are challenges is ever so understated. The other hopped into a not-well-thought-out-ill-advised marriage. Now, needing an exit from a completely dysfunctional 19 year "partnership" (consisting of 18 years of hard, non-life sustaining road), she is soon headed to this concrete slab at 453 with her 12, 15 and 17 year old progeny.
It's about what this "feels" like that leaves me shuddering. Our vulnerable boat for 2 seems hardly able to withstand a 5X influx of new souls. How does this all make you "feel" Santiago? CONFLICTED! UNDER SIEGE! On one hand, it is only common sense that sees this amount of family-bearing-kryptonite as a Seeouw-i-ous crack in our humble domain. On the other, 1Jn3:16-18 offers a counterpoint: "By this we know love, that he laid down his life for us; and we ought to lay down our lives for the brethren. But if any one has the world's goods and sees his brother in need, yet closes his heart against him, how does God's love abide in him? Little children, let us not love in word or speech but in deed and in truth".
Get the picture? It's as if one cup of "for such a time as this" is added to a half cup of "run Forest, run" and 3 tbsps of "not now, not here" and blended at high speed. The green-grey liquid is then poured out into a little plastic Kool-Aid cup and tossed back with a chaser of shame at not being in a different frame of mind about it all.
Yikes, letting this all out to sit on paper where it quivers under the light of day is not bringing the comfort or relief for which I had hoped. Nothing is resolved in just describing the circumstantial details...no easy relief. Time to put this on a back burner, turn it down to simmer and come back in a day or two and see if these meanderings bring any life, or relief, or perspective, or anything of a useful, positive nature....
Well, a couple days have passed and no magical insights. Except to say that I believe the above is an honest enough look at the mix of emotions I am managing. As a citizen of the Kingdom I have come to realize and accept that it is not in fact about me. I am not the hero of the story I find myself in. As John said, I must decrease but he must increase. I ask your forgiveness Father for all my selfishness and all self protective efforts that keep me stuck in a selfish box. For such a time as this......I have been part of this blended family for 14 years now. To be asked to step up and into the management of providing a place of relaunch for children and grandchildren is an honor and a privilege and an opportunity to walk humbly with my God.
Buck up Santiago....once there is the perspective of an image in the rear view mirror, I believe I will only have gratitude at having been invited into this black diamond forest.
Now to him, who be the power at work within us is able to do far more abundantly than all we ask or think, to him be glory in the church and in Christ Jesus to all generations forever and forever....Amen.
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