Breathe

When did I let my life become so mundane? I feel at the moment like I wake up, go to work, come home, go to bed, repeat. And somewhere along the line, I've forgotten that I'm actually living. I've allowed myself to stop thinking, to stop reflecting , to stop really breathing.

I realised tonight something so precious that I can't believe I ever forgot it. I'm alive. I'm breathing in the air around me. I exist. When you actually slow down enough to realise that, when you manage to tear yourself away from the mundane life long enough to know that- it is absolutely breathtaking. I can be anything, I can go anywhere, I am free, I exist.

Don't let me ever forget that.

It carries some of the essence of what Jesus said when he says: 

"do not worry about your life" "do not worry about tomorrow" "seek first the kingdom of God".

I find those words so fresh and releasing. So simple when I make things so complicated. At times I get so caught up in my life that I forget I'm actually living, sometimes I get so caught up in the future- where I will be, how I will get by, that I forget who I really am. And Jesus is frank about it- do not worry.  Live. Exist. 

It is so easy to get through weeks, months, years without really living. It isn't about traveling the world or becoming successful- it isn't about eating the most exquisite food or reading more books. It is about taking in every last drop of life- savoring every moment for what it is; realising that life is too short to live for anything other than the present. 

Ultimately life is fickle. Tomorrow is always too far away. It's not long enough until I'm married, until I have enough money, until we have a decent government. The truth is that there will always be another excuse to not really live; there will always be something not right. But ultimately the future is only a distraction from how amazing the present is, on how exhilarating life could be if we dared to really live.

This might be my last blog. This might be my last breath. If it is, at least I will go appreciating life for what it is, knowing that I am alive now and that is truly the most remarkable thing.

Simple Twist of Fate

"Philosophy is perfectly right in saying that life must be understood backward. But then one forgets the other clause- that it must be lived forward. The more one thinks through this clause, the more one concludes that life in temporality never becomes properly understandable, simply because never at any time does one get perfect repose to take a stance- backward." (Kierkegaard, Early Journal Entries, 1843)

I am struck by these words as I teeter towards my next steps in life. I'll be getting married next September, and at the moment I have no idea what I'll be doing for a job, which city I'll be living in, how I'll earn a living. Kierkegaard is spot on when he says that life must be live forwards, but only understood fully backwards. I feel at the moment a little lost in the prospect of my future. Big decision lie ahead in the next few weeks and months.

I think often the idea of 'calling' and of God's guidance is like this. Looking back, I feel that I was strongly called by God to studying Philosophy, to coming to York, even in starting going out with Ellie. I do believe in guidance in some capacity. It seems relatively easy to look backwards and speak about calling, and God's guidance in situation X.

It is much more difficult to apply this looking forwards. At the moment I don't know if I feel particularly whole heatedly called to a specific path. Sure I feel passionate about the Church, about leadership, about philosophy, thinking, faith, music, coffee. I have passions. But at times I look at my passions and my situations and the future just seems a bit of a blur.  I reckon Kierkegaard was right.

We need to learn to not spend too much time looking backwards. I know that I'm guilty of it; noticing God's presence in places in my life that have past and getting frustrated that he isn't clearer now. The thing is we can never live backwards, we can never take up that perfect stance. That's so frustrating. But I wonder if part of the notion of being a follower of Christ, of living in 'faith' is that it's pretty easy to see where you've gone and not always possible to see where you're going. All I can do is take the next step. And at the moment those feel like particularly small steps. Daily steps.

It's reassuring for me that I have something to follow. And I need to remind myself daily that I'm following. I need to learn to trust. Even looking back over the last few weeks I see where God has moved, and how things have changed. And I need to learn not try and adopt the backward stance, not to kid myself that I was certain of anything. Now it's easy to say that X was the right thing to do. At the time that decision was filled with doubts and questions; it was just a matter of following. It all makes sense now, but life can only be lived forwards.

And so today, as I step another foot forwards, I appreciate the present, I appreciate the cloud of the future. I am thankful for where God has led me so far, and I am excitedly apprehensive about where he will lead me next. And in a way, as annoying as it is, I'm kind of glad life cannot be understood forwards, the excitement of not knowing keeps me edging forwards. 

Marry You

So on Sunday night I proposed to the beautiful Ellie. She did not see it coming. Even though we'd spent all weekend talking about weddings with her family, she was not expecting it as soon as we got back. Some very good friends of mine had set the room of our favorite coffee shop up beautifully with photographs of us both, yellow roses, a bottle of champagne (or cheap M&S cava), our favorite food and coffee and then more candles than you've ever seen in your life. I got down on one knee and asked a woman to spend the rest of her life with me, after a few tears and five minutes or so of euphoria it started to become quite difficult to breathe. Turns out it wasn't overwhelming excitement, but rather quite a lot of toxic smoke. I turned round to see my beautiful wool coat and rucksack full of my favorite clothes and books up in flames.

So you could say that my romantic plans weren't quite executed perfectly. My worldly possessions went up in flames as I made a commitment to spend the rest of my life trying to care for one person.

The ritual of marriage is seen as pretty outdated in our society today- but let me tell you, I fully intend to spend the rest of my life with one woman- give everything I have to making our marriage work, even when it's pretty tough.The bible uses the imagery of marriage quite often to refer to his Church. The 'bride' of Christ (the Church) will one day meet the bridegroom (Christ) and be united for eternity in a new creation. And that in my mind is a pretty good piece of symbolism for belonging to the Church, for having faith.

We need to realise sometimes that committing to God to have faith in Christ and become part of his bride is not always 'feel good', it requires sacrifice. In order to leap fully into following Christ, we have to let go of what we're holding. And sometimes we have to see things we are attached to go up in flames. Sometimes this is our stuff; I think of a rich guy in the Bible who wanted to follow Jesus but couldn't give up his possessions. Sometimes it's our ambition. Jesus even tells us that following him will result in people we love turning against us.

I think too often we over glamorize commitment. I know full well that I will have to give up some of my ambition, some of my money, some of my stuff in order to love Ellie fully and be fully committed to her. I know that sometimes she will do my head in, sometimes I will feel like giving it up. But that's not the point. The point of marriage isn't that I find someone who can make me euphoric for the next sixty years, but I do believe that the sacrifice I make to commit to her will be worth it. And it's the same with faith. We might paint 'conversion' as a glorious thing, and rightly so- but there is a cost of faith, there is a cost of belonging to the Church. Jesus says:

For whoever wants to save his life will lose it, but whoever loses his life for me will find it.

I am challenged by those words. Ultimately I know that Jesus is more trustworthy than Ellie is. I know that commitment to him is worth it. But it means letting go of things, letting go of my self centered attitude. Interestingly Jesus claims the two most important things you can do with your life is to "Love God" and "Love others", that is a total reversal of the strongest instruction of culture: "Love yourself". Faith means taking my eyes off myself, letting go of what I'm holding and committing to someone who is worth placing trust in.

I don't pretend that is easy. I have to daily struggle to do that. In a strange way I'm kind of glad my stuff went up in flames, as irritating as it was, it gave me a sense of perspective. Compared to spending the rest of my life with Ellie, a wool coat is nothing. Compared to being a part of the Bride of Christ for eternity, what I have in my hands is nothing. 

Everything in it's Right Place

If I believe in God, it isn't surprising that I see him everywhere. He is part of the heat radiating from that sun, he is part of the passion in Justin Vernon's voice as skinny love fills my ears. He is part of the feeling I get when I see my girlfriend approaching in the distance. He is part of my longing to see Christians who are more intellectually engaging; he is part of the 800paged philosophy book I'm reading. He is part of that guy sitting and reading, of the beauty of the sky.

This is not some kind of crazy pantheism; where God is reduced to just the things we see, but it is my belief that God created all things, that he is part of all things, that he is making all things new. Every glimpse of beauty, every passion, every joy, every sorrow. He sees, he knows, he made it. I refuse to be cynical about the phrase "everything is spiritual"- despite what the world tells me. I refuse to believe love is a releasing of endorphins, that passion is a brain state, that music is just a collection of notes.

I refuse to put God in the box that everyone does. The one labelled 'for church' 'for prayer time' 'for that godly conversation'. Because if God is here he's not a distant force who created and left. He built his house & moved in.

God's voice is in the cool breeze on my neck, in the intricacy of that leaf, in the joy of relationships.

He spoke the world into being. His word brought life to the stars, and to the earth- and I don't see why I should believe that his voice ceased. If there is still life, then he is still speaking. His word creates, his word sustains and he speaks to all of us, all the time.