Tuesday, August 22, 2017

Bench

Last Saturday I drove up to the Middle Fork of the Yuba river by myself. It is the place where our family and extended families with aunts and uncles and cousins would go and camp together. It was only about 35 miles from the home I grew up in but it always felt like a world away. The road was twisty and turny the last 15 miles but as the years went on the state highway department straightened out the road in places it was possible. There still is a steep and twisty climb into and out of the canyon that holds the South Fork of the Yuba. Every time I drive that road I think of my cousin David.

David and I were close from the very beginning with me being about 5 weeks older than he. He grew up in Napa but our families would get together often for holidays and other times.  When we were both finishing up the 8th grade we hatched a plan, an adventure. We decided that summer we would buy 10 speed bikes and ride from my parents home to the Yuba river and camp by ourselves for a few days. Neither of us knew if our parents would agree but we gave it a shot. Surprisingly they agreed. To this day I have the letter David sent me, special delivery, with the envelope back flap saying, "She said yes!!!!!!" meaning David's mother.

It was a long ride up and we had a real adventure with a few days camping on the river we both loved.

As it happens, we both grew up and we grew apart. We rarely see each other. A few years ago David called me and wanted to get together. He drove to my house, we had lunch together and ended up on a park bench on the state capitol grounds. We talked for a couple hours. It was good.

I'm currently sitting on our front porch. We have a small round table and two inviting chairs. I've had more than one significant conversation with people in these chairs. It is one of my favorite places.

We use to have a bench out front. It was a good bench but only fit two people rather snugly. I didn't spend as much time out front as I do now but I liked the bench, I like benches in general. They seem to be a visual invitation by some unseen person to sit for a moment, alone or with someone.

I've noticed something lately about how we tend to speak of our relationship with God. It is more often than not centered around us learning something. I often hear, "I think God is wanting to teach me something in this situation." As I've noticed how often I hear similar phrases from many people I wonder if this is how He wants us to primarily think of Him? Is this the main way we've taught people to relate to God as the cosmic school teacher whose only goal is to get our lessons learned?

I've also noticed how often people mention that God is working on them over some issue in their life. It seems like we see Him as the cosmic trainer trying to make us better. I suspect we are complicit in this because we believe if we are better He will love us more. It only stands to reason that He will always be about working on us about something.

Then there are those who are just a mess, broken and they know it, shattered and laying in a heap. I hear from those folks the expectation that God primarily needs to put the pieces back together so they can get on with life. They expect He's mainly about scooping up the pieces and putting things back together, impatiently waiting for the next mess He will have to clean up. I think many in this camp think God is mostly put out with them as He waits for us to stop making the messes we often make.

I'm not saying He isn't this type of God, that He isn't interested in us learning, or our transformation or the broken messes we get ourselves into. These are important issues He is interested in. Rather I'm suggesting He might want to have a different relationship with us.

Picture a bench. Its a wide wooden bench with a curved back all painted white. Its situated on a slight rise giving anyone who sits a view of green grass rolling off into the distance. Large oak trees are dotted in the green field and in the distance is a soccer field. Behind it are several evergreens that give a gentle enclosure for the spot of invitation.

You've driven past this spot many times on your way to work and running errands but today you stop. You've had one of those days where your own stubborn broken places have reigned. Your mouth accurately reflected an attitude you are now ashamed of. It's old territory for you and you are weary of the cycle you find yourself in. You need to give yourself a little time before finishing the drive home. You take a deep breath and on the exhale you pray, "God, I can't do this anymore".  It is then you notice the bench for the first time. "Had it always been there?", you ask yourself.

Unthinking you leave the car behind and make the short walk up the slope. You stand there at the bench and wonder if you dare take the time to sit, dare to expect God might be in this moment. Its then you notice the little desire creep into your mind and a voice, "Sit here with me". "Is it possible that He really wants to sit with me after the day I've had?" It seems almost scandalous but you sit and pour it all out to God.

Is it at all possible that God is saying, "Yes, I see all this, I know this pattern in you well and we will work on this but first things first. Just sit with me and know that you are loved, even the broken places that trip you up time and again. Just sit with me and let me love you, know you are loved. Now look up and see, take in this park. Notice the children playing soccer. Let me love you first before all other things that seem so pressing to you."

Is it at all possible that God first wants to be known by His love for us before all the other roles our needs thrust upon Him? Is it possible we can simply sit, side by side with Him on a bench letting our expectations of Him melt away?