The Sunset Called Life: Reflections on the Impending Fall

It's August 31st.  It's the final day of August--and what some may consider the end of summer.  Tomorrow is September 1st, and not to get too complicated (sarcasm), it's what some may consider the first day of Fall.  I think the reason for this is because the stereotypical summer months (June, July, and August) have come and gone and the sights of backpacks, kids waiting at the bus stop, and heavier traffic in the mornings have suddenly descended upon us.  Life all of a sudden seems to be spinning a different direction when the summer months have passed.  The days of mindless laughter, vacation, pool parties, and free schedules are no more--and what we have left is a new season.  A new season of classes, a new season of discovery, a new season of transition, and for most people a new season of busy lives and marked up agenda books.    

What's interesting is, based on technicality, the first official day of fall doesn't begin until the autumn equinox has occurred.  In 2010, the autumn equinox will occur on September 23rd.  September 23rd marks one of two days this entire year that the sun will rise due east and set due west.  It's common misconception that the sun rises due east and sets due west on a daily basis.  This perfection is only seen two days out of the year, however.  Every other day of the year sees the sun rise just north or south of due east and set just north or south of due west.  Also particularly unique about the fall equinox is that anyone on the north pole in the northern hemisphere could see the sun creeping along the horizon--foretelling of the upcoming months of darkness.  Similarly, those on the south pole in the southern hemisphere observe the same sun--foretelling of a different fate--six impending months of sustained light.  The autumn equinox isn't just another day, but a day that universally marks creation's descent into the months of winter hibernation.

What's so beautiful about this process is the idea of a universal sunset, a universal hope, and a universal longing.  The autumn equinox is symbolic of the "sunset of the year."  When I watch the sunset, which becomes rare with busy schedules and nightly activities, I usually marvel at the beautiful colors lining the skyline, the decline into night, and how cool and crisp the air grazing my skin feels.  Seldom do I stop to think of what the idea of sunset can symbolize in each of our lives.  To expound, I think it's fair to assume each of us experience the "sunset of life" in some way or form.  We experience pain, loss, loneliness, illness, separation, and feelings of inadequacy.  Sadly, the list could go on.  These feelings correlate directly with the sun as it begins to set and darkness beings to rear it's ugly head.  In my own life, at times, I'll dwell on this decline into darkness.  I sit as the sun sets and instantly begin to contemplate the darkness that is about to pervade my life.  This darkness is the catalyst to deep pitted feelings of  "what am I doing with my life" moments or a reminder of the mundane things that need to be done the next day.  Sometimes this darkness is a sign of the loneliness I know is imminent or the feelings of inadequacy that I know will start to creep into the bed with me at night. 

As a believer in the resurrection of Christ and the life everlasting, the implications of the sunset of this temporary life should be equally as profound as the belief in which we fundamentally root our faith.  To believe in the resurrection of Christ is to believe that even after the sun has turned away, even as the darkness descends, and even as the night seems endless--we are given a divine hope that is the ultimate response to creation's cry for redemption.

As the onset of the impending fall sets in, my prayer for my own life, is to stop and appreciate the dynamics of the lifelong sunset--and to remain faithful to the God who remains infinitely faithful to humanity.  In the midst of the busy fall, as summer falls away, my prayer is that my gratitude for the eternal hope in Christ is more real than it ever has been.  I pray that my own belief in the resurrection would be the foundation for the hope of something greater--the hope of a God who's nature is infinite and unchanging despite the seasons of life. 

In the sunset of life--during times of sadness, grief, loss, and unwarranted pain--we can rest in the joy and hope that this mystery brings.  We are redeemed and have the most Holy Redeemer.  I have a feeling I'll see the sunset differently going forward.  I'll view the sunset with a fresh perspective.   During the times of darkness, when the night seems too long, I pray that my hope rests in the eternal sunset of our Creator--in the sunset that symbolizes the conquest of death for the hope of a fallen humanity.  Thanks be to God.

When you feel the way you feel...

I am fascinated by the city, particularly Nashville.  I have fallen deeply in love with this place.  In fact, I never knew what being in love with a city could feel like--until I moved to Nashville.  More than the city though, I love the people I share it with--my very best friends.  Long after the the city lights have faded, the beeping horns have hushed, and the looming city mist has subsided, this place, is at the end of the day...well, just a place.  What is a place without the joy, love, and people that inhabit it?  It is an empty vacuum.  We need love, need to give love, and most importantly show love.  In Nashville, this concept is so invasive.  It is not invasive because of the city--it is invasive because of those I share it with. As someone wise once told me (Hi Becky), love drives everything.  It certainly does. 

This poem is beautiful and brilliant--we can be "in" the city, but we shouldn't be "of" the city.  Sounds familiar, huh?  Christ said something very similar.  "They are not of the world, just as I am not of the world." (John  17:14) How do we make this relevant?  How can we make this real and tangible?  Love God and love people.

Exit

I have to leave the city now, she said,

Or dash my soul against my will instead.


I do not wish to have the quiet part of me

That once could rest (the part

That could just be) tossed

Aside and left somewhere

For dead.


Tonight it seems to me

That what some friends call energy

Is nothing more than a phenomenon of nature known as

"Incurable Whirling Disease."


Please, take me far from here, she said,

The buildings sting and echo

With the fumy cries of yellowjacket cars.


I took her hand in mine and said,

I'm thinking of a place now

Where I used to have to tell myself

Aloud,

Those are not clouds,

They're stars.

Copyright 2007, Linford Detweiler

I haven't read anything this moving in quite some time.  I am truly moved.  Are you?

This is love. True, humble, beautiful love.

Paralyzed. Pt. 2

The more I thought about the quote by C.S. Lewis (see quote below), the more I couldn't stop thinking about it. In my car, I thought about it. Behind my desk at work, I thought about it. In Walgreens, I thought about it. At lunch with Becky, I thought about it. 5 o'clock rolled around, and I thought about it again. Suddenly, it dawned on me--fear pervades much of my life. In fact, every facet of my life has some root in fear.

So what, we're all scared, right? I alleviate my troubles by telling myself," It's alright, Liz. This is just that 'after college, you don't know what you want to do with your life, but you have a secure job, with a secure paycheck so don't make any irrational decisions' transition time." I do this. Typically, I feel better, but only for a short while. Other people may drown their fear in distractions--and sometimes these distractions manifest themselves in the form of addiction, significant others, and even stagnant complacency. I'm one of those "other people" sometimes too. Fascinating how God uses gracious mercy to reveal the most merciless qualities in us, isn't it? You see, I'm always distracting myself. I think society is always distracting itself.

The more I thought about distraction, the more I thought about unfulfilling distractions, which ultimately lead me to thinking about the unfulfilling distractions that make our fear seem obsolete (key word: seem)--distractions that deter us from feeling the fear we are consumed by deep within our hearts, souls, what have you. Again, however, we can only be distracted for a while-until we start feeling "that same way" again. Sadly enough, the process is cyclical. It's an "up, down, up, up, up, down, down, middle ground..." situation that we find ourselves desperately trying to stay afloat in.

In my life, I have many distractions. I realize that I allow these distractions to interject in my life because they prevent me from being scared. They prevent me from being afraid of the unknown, doubt, questions, loneliness, and inadequacy.

Of course, my faith is the underlying context here. More than not, I find myself doing exactly what C.S. Lewis describes in the below quote. I don't find myself doubting God's sovereignty, but being fearful of what God's sovereignty looks like. In the midst of a period of questioning, this can be a shockingly beautiful, coming of age realization. During a time of questions, it is natural to analyze God's sovereignty, discern God's sovereignty, and define God's sovereignty. Ultimately, we realize that this is not our true fear. This discovery is a profound and fulfilling one.

Today, within the midst of simple moments, I was reaffirmed and allowed the opportunity to see God's sovereignty in a new, organic way. God's sovereignty never changes--our perspective does. After all, he is in fact the ONLY Truth that was, is, and will be. Praise be to God that our feelings don't define, regulate, or confirm truth. Subsequently, I believe He reveals himself and His glory in brilliant, even subtle ways.

In my own fear, in my own fear of God's best not being "my" best--I understood--maybe even just a glimmer of God's sovereignty. It's a very scary thought.  God's sovereignty should be scary though--and it's alright. In fact, it's brilliant. To be wise, IS to fear God. "And to man He said, Behold, the fear of the Lord, that is wisdom!" (Job 28:28) With that fear comes wisdom and through wisdom we learn to trust. We. Learn. To. Trust. I needed to reiterate that to myself.

Indeed, worldly fear is inherent and worldly fear is prevalent in each of our lives. Consequently, worldly fear debilitates each of us and deludes us each into thinking we are inadequate and enslaved to the "mess" of today. Godly fear is inherent as well, but Godly fear is essential--essential to peace and undestanding. It seems paradoxical, but like the tension that inherent, worldly fear and inherent, Godly fear creates, there is victory. Victory through submission. This is beautiful.

Paralyzed pt. 1

“We're not necessarily doubting that God will do the best for us; we are wondering how painful the best will turn out to be”

-C.S. Lewis

This quote COMPLETELY scares me. I mean--REALLY REALLY--scares me. I'm trying to find peace, understanding, and trust through this, but I still find fear. In fact, it's paralyzing. Alas, this is revealing. God's character is revealing.

Decisions, Decisions...

Today I'm trying to narrow down my search for a wedding photographer. After typing that sentence, I realize we have yet to even set an EXACT date. We are thinking May 2011 if that makes the uncertainty a little clearer. We haven't set a venue, but we are well on our way to making a decision soon. There are so many gorgeous choices here in Nashville so the search has actually been fun--given we've been able to explore a lot of really beautiful potential spots.



The more I start thinking details and the more I hear about "how important" this day is--I gain an even greater understanding of just how much MORE important, even more than the beautiful flowers, couture decor, and gorgeous gowns, the commitment J and I are making to each other truly is.

(brief second of thought and heavy sigh later)

Wow. That's big. What James and I are embarking on is a journey--a journey I'm expecting to be full of ups, downs, and a lot of love. David Platt describes what the context of any marriage should be in his sermon on "The Gospel and Womanhood." I listened to this last Sunday and gained some powerful insight into how I should be serving as a woman in my future marriage.

I'd also be curious to hear David's thoughts on embracing the Gospel even during times of desperation, loss, and unfulfillment. We all know as individuals we are doomed to these feelings at times.

My apologies for the brief interjection of cynicism--coupled with a side dose of reality.

Nevertheless, Dr. Platt provides a great framework for being a Godly woman in a God-centered commitment. Good stuff.

Love and Respect

Given my current engaged state, I'm in the beginning stages of reading Love and Respect by Dr. Emerson Eggerichs. I must admit, given ample amounts of skepticism, I've found several passages insightful and informative. I'll keep you updated. In the meantime I'll leave you with a verse Dr. Eggerichs references in the first chapter.

"However, each one of you also must love his wife as he loves himself, and the wife must respect her husband."
Ephesians 5:33

It seems simple, but the premise of the book is simple too. There is deep context underlying this verse and the book has done a great job so far disecting the great implications of this short, but powerful passage.

Never Enough

“It is better to love God and die unknown than to love the world and be a hero; better to be content with poverty than to die a slave to wealth; better to have taken some risks and lost, than to have done nothing and succeeded at it.” –E Lutzer.

I read this quote at work today from a blog about a missionary family in Haiti. I read this quote, and as the tears swelled up deep within the whites of my eyes, I was convicted. You see, for me, conviction runs deep. Partly, because shamefully, it is rare. My main conviction, paradoxically, is that I let pride get in the way of ever even feeling convicted at times. For me, guilt typically doesn't set in until "after the fact" and until I've had time to reflect, be still, and ultimately realize the consequences and the counteractive implications of my actions. These actions I speak of are not 'stereotypically' what one might consider "that bad." In fact, by a worldy standard, I'm pretty kosher. Unfortunately, for all of us, the world standard is null and void in the context of our sovereign creator. What may not be externally obvious, is not always as internally blatant. My heart is often the most indifferent, conflicted, and worldly induced part of my being. I find myself falling prey to the lures of this world every day. I fall prey to the anticipation of worldly financial success, worldly praise, and realizing the worldly expectations of those around me. This is my deepest conviction and it has been uprooted in the most beautiful and brilliant way today.

The quote above has brought forth a very profound revelation. A revelation about my heart, my mind, and my soul that only Almighty God has the power to reveal. I suppose what this quote most reveals is how lightly I take the word sanctification in God's Holy scripture and the powerful impact this word has on our very essence--our very essence of being. I am humbled by the revelation that I am indeed an amateur in realizing and fully embracing the meaning of being 'sanctified through the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for all' (Hebrews 10:10). I read this quote and suddenly felt absent to the knowledge of Christ's atonement--and how through this redeeming grace, we are sanctified. Our heart, mind, and soul should be transformed by this love. Nothing is greater than loving our God and loving our neighbor. Nothing should be more obvious than the condition of our heart-fundamentally because the transforming, sanctifying love of God is THAT good. God's love through the atonement of Christ has the ability to change us. Radically.

I am still searching and humbled every day by the deep convictions that God reveals to me--even those that sometimes I intentionally try to hide. I am grateful for those convictions. Yes, I am grateful.

It's 2010...and we all know what that means...

It's 2010. Yes. It is. It's 2010, a new year, and we all know that we have lists nearly touching the ground of new year's resolutions and things we want to change about ourselves during the new decade. It makes me giggle seeing gyms packed with people after the New Year's Eve party hats and champaigne glasses have all been put away. It's also no surprise to see hundreds of facebook and twitter updates about change, renewal, and a new sense of self. In fact, I'm guilty. Check my previous facebook statuses. I'm very guilty.

The more I think of this, however, the more I realize how desperate we are for change--how in need of "something new" we constantly appear to be. There is something so innate in us, willing us to do anything in our power to "feel better" about OURSELVES. I'm not objecting to a little bit of self absorption every now and then--do not get me wrong. How else are we able to reflect? I'm simply bringing to the forefront this concept of "self and ego" that seems to drive everything else around it--albeit relationships, work, spiritual life, and community. Only if we feel adequate can we contribute to a greater purpose. Only if we feel, by earthly standards, beautiful can we feel worthy of love, and only with measurable intelligence can we conquer that boardroom meeting with confidence. What a perverse lie we've all been fed. What's even more twisted is how fully we immerse ourselves in this perspective. We frame our entire existence around ourselves and while I believe that much of this is rooted in our nature--I can't help but suggest it's partially environmental, media driven, and socially embedded.

What we sometimes fail to realize is that the answer to how we should love is not rooted in ourselves. The answer is in those around us. Perhaps, the greatest realization of this new year does not come from that formidable list of resolutions, but rather deep within the implications of where that list originated from. We are always wanting more--always wanting to look better, feel better, and be better. What if we wanted all of those things for not only ourselves, but for everyone around us? Would that inspire us all to be more proactive, more productive, and most importantly more loving? It isn't always about what we should be doing for ourselves but rather what we shouldn't do for ourselves--and what we should ultimately pour into others.

Thank you new year's resolutions--not for your long list of action items and self-inspired goals, but for the perspective and simple, yet beautiful awareness you have brought me. Here's to a selfless 2010--make me a better woman.