My husband is such a talented writer. I love when he writes, it is usually a topic we have recently been discussing and then written out in a very thought provoking blog. Here is his most recent post....
We experience seasons in almost every area of our lives. This is most obvious in the changing seasons on our calendars. For me, spring and summer have always been my favorite seasons. It’s strange that growing up in Colorado I hate winter. While all the people get stoked to go hit the slopes, I find myself wishing I was in San Diego on the beach eating In-N-Out Burger. That being said, fall is somewhat enjoyable for me because of football season, until lately for us Bronco fans!
We all handle seasons differently. Change can be a very good thing in our lives and we see this to be true in Gods creation, whether it be nature or the cycle of human life. We also know that change can be incredibly painful, and God knows this as well. It’s not the way he intended things to be, but somehow it’s used to shape us and mold us into what he created us to be. Lately I’ve been struck by the thought that this applies to our relationships as well. Circumstances at times dictate the seasonal nature of relationships, but more often than not we seem to be the ones choosing it. It is the later that disturbs me, and has made it’s way into numerous areas of our lives.
In America, we live in a place where seasonal community is actually encouraged. It’s not right out there in plain sight, but it’s there. The pursuit of living independently instead of dependently is killing our relationships. I’ve written about the idea of dependence vs. independence in another blog. We live in a world where if we aren’t getting our needs met we can just pull the rip cord and bail out. Our spouse isn’t meeting our needs? Just leave and find a new one. Why should I give an effort at my current job? I can just go find another one. I just hated the music on Sunday at church, so we’ll just go find another church that suits our needs better. This is especially easy in Colorado Springs where I live. There is a church meeting in almost every public school in our city on Sunday mornings. That is insane to me. There is no better example of how a community refuses to work together than the church in America. I’m not anti-church planting, I just think it’s appalling that churches in my town can’t find a way to join efforts. This won’t be true in the future though, not with 40,000 people a week walking away from church.
This is why Lori and I decided to go back to the church that let me go in the Springs. Sure, we could go church shopping. What’s the point though? Our community is right where we left it. For us church isn’t about who has the best music or preaching, it’s about being with the people we love most. This is where we see the problem a lot of us have. We’re only connected to a community because of what we can consume from it, so it’s easy to leave. If it doesn’t meet our needs, then we move on. The problem is we need it in our lives, and most of our lives involves the pursuit of it.
Lately we’ve been dealing with friends leaving their spouses, and leaving their communities for greener pastures. I’ve experienced this numerous times in my life with friends. I don’t know that I’ve ever come to grips with what my role should be when this happens. I’ve desperately tried to hold on to friends that were drifting away, and I’ve also tried to not care and let them go. I’ve had friends that I just couldn’t remain close to due to circumstances, but the most painful ones have been those who choose to simply move on. Maybe I’m getting a glimpse of what God feels about those that he created.
What seems to be ignored in our complete selfishness is that our decisions have ripple effects. It blows my mind what people are willing to trade to get what they want, what I’ve been willing to trade to get what I want. I’ve had some crappy friends over the years, and I’ve had some amazing friends. I’ve been a crappy friend and I’ve been a loyal friend as well. I’ve come to a point in my life where I realize it’s not my job to chase down people that don’t want to be around me, or want to make horrible choices. I’ll always have an open door for them, but I’m not going to run after them. I see this story revealed in the parable of the prodigal son. The father let his son go. He let him experience the pain of life. He didn’t try to control it. He sat and prayed and waited that someday his son would return. This is a man that understood his role. Of course we all know the ending, he was welcomed back with open arms.
I tend to put myself in the story as the prodigal son. I’ve been there many times, and I’m sure will return again. But, now that I’m a dad I look at it in a different way. Not only with my sons, but with my friends. What happens when I’m the one waiting at home? I’ve wasted so much time trying to “fix” people and I don’t want to try and play that role anymore. I do however, want to be a part of, and help create the kind of community we were designed to have. Everyone is welcome, everyone is accepted. When things get hard, we walk through it together. When one of us falls down, we’re there to pick each other up. When we struggle in our marriage, we have others to help us through. When we feel like we can’t go on, we realize that we’re not alone.
There are people I’ve targeted in my life that live this way, and I’m making it a point to be with them. I want them to rub off on me. I want them to make me a better person by watching the way they live. How do we ever recover from the cycle of seasonal community that we’ve put ourselves in? I don’t know, I wish I had the answer. My gut tells me it’s going to get worse before it get’s better. One thing I do know is we have a father sitting on his front porch watching the horizon, waiting for us come running over the hill.
Maybe it’s winter for you right now, or maybe you’re enjoying the warm sun on your face from a summer day. Whatever it is, let’s remember together that life is way bigger than us. We aren’t the center of the universe, but we have privilege of fighting through life together. We can’t make it on our own, so we need to stop running away.
