Up the Lazy River

Serenity is what we often look for in our lives, but it’s inconsistent with what we’re encouraged to seek. Excitement is more the order of the day. (I’m reflecting on a decidedly American experience here.) What’s happening that’s exciting? What’s happening that will engage us, distract us from the difficulties of life, or enhance what is “ordinary” about our lives? We reach for something better than what we have: something new, something amazing, perhaps something unique, something that will distinguish us from everyone else. Perhaps we take something that’s produced on an assembly line and modify it in order to distinguish it from everyone else’s version—think young people and their cars or clothes. We try to make sense of our lives; make our lives significant in a world that so often characterizes us as another version of the same old thing. Another person, another citizen, another number on an ongoing list of numbers: social security, driver’s license, bank account. A number in a queue: a long queue. We want to be exceptional without being conspicuous—sort of. We don’t know what we want. We want to be noticed without being embarrassed. We want people to think well of us without demanding anything from us. Give me your attention but don’t expect me to care about it. Look at what I have, but don’t hate me for it, and don’t expect me to offer it to you…unless I get something in return.

Serenity…what is it? The dictionary says it’s “a state of being calm, peaceful, and untroubled.” I could use some of that, couldn’t you? I don’t want to be bothered, but I don’t want to be neglected either. I don’t want to be rushed, but I don’t want to be bored. I want to be calm without being isolated. What is it that we want? In the midst of what we do, or what we’re thinking and imagining, or, maybe, pursuing, don’t we often find ourselves wishing that life was more relaxed? I do. I imagine myself in some serene location with nothing of significance happening. It’s quiet; I can hear myself think, I want for nothing. It’s wonderful until it happens. I remember being in the middle of Wyoming on a 2-lane black top that extended out in front of me for a hundred miles. Big blue sky lit by a sun that wasn’t too aggressive, and enough clouds to give perspective to the skyscape. There wasn’t another car in sight. I pulled over to make my breakfast, and when I got out the serenity seemed to weigh on me. The sense of solitude in such a vast silence made me somewhat uncomfortable instead of calm. Serenity was fleeting. And what did I do? I texted a friend and chatted with her while I ate. It seems that we want to go “up the lazy river,” like the song says but it’s not as easy as it sounds. Peace and calm, and a lack of trouble are illusive. Yet we need it…at least periodically.

People of all types want some version of serenity at least part of the time. People who are ill or recovering from an injury are advised to rest, to lay aside the troubles of life while a healing occurs. That’s a lot of what goes on in hospitals. Wounded and ill people are given an opportunity to recover. It’s not just to get treatment; it’s an opportunity to recover through a measure of isolation. And yet if you’ve ever spent time in the hospital it soon becomes boring or aggravating, unless you’re too ill to care. Another version of isolation is cloistering with a group of like-minded Christians. Monasteries were developed to ward off the common demands of life in order to focus on the Lord’s agenda. Some have been more successful than others, but the idea of cloistering to give attention to the Lord is still considered relevant by many believers. Churches will endorse “retreats” giving its members a temporary respite from everyday life, and prompting added focus to the Lord and His agenda. We all need a measure of peace and serenity in our effort to do life as believers in a world of distraction. Yet the world’s distractions confront us with its version of the “good life.” That’s something that needs to be recognized and counteracted by Christians.

When was the last time that you as an individual believer were able to isolate yourself simply to listen to what the Lord might have to say? This blog has given attention to three basic elements that are required in order to progress in our walk with God. It’s been pointed out that learning to handle the Bible and reading it regularly, along with developing a vibrant prayer life, are essential to progressing in the faith. And being part of a group of like-minded believers—meaning church—is the environment in which further understanding can be gained and misunderstanding can be avoided. However, we all live in a world that works against our efforts because it’s populated by people with a different agenda and animated by powers that are decidedly opposed to God’s plan. The fact is: that regardless of where you are on this planet you will be hindered from your quest to know the Lord and attain what He desires for your life. We all must “work” to counteract this circumstance by employing the disciplines that have been described. However, there’s another element that needs to be given our attention. We need to get alone with God and listen to Him, and we need to do this routinely. We need to stop what we’re doing and seek Him, and expect Him to speak to us. Prayer can so often be reduced to an effort to present our needs before the Lord. We have concerns that press in on us; and problems that have arisen from our daily engagement in a fallen world. We’re surrounded by people who don’t necessarily embrace our beliefs; people we have to deal with, work with, or perhaps oppose. Unexpected circumstances need to be addressed, along with the demands that are common in everyday life. It’s so easy to list these things before our God. In fact He does want us to bring our cares before Him. But if that’s all we do, we’re falling short of what knowing our Lord is really all about. As believers we have an opportunity to commune with the Lord; to engage Him in conversation. However, in saying this I’m not suggesting a dialog that resembles our conversations with other people. Sometimes that may happen as when Moses talked to the Lord on the mountain; but, more likely conversation with our Father will involve having ideas occur to us as we express our concerns to Him, or gaining insight through what I would call a “witness” within us. In my own life I’ve referred to this as my “belly bell.” Saying this reminds me of a text in Scripture that I believe suggests this:

For all who are being led by the Spirit of God, these are the sons of God. For you have not received a spirit of slavery leading to fear again, but you have received a spirit of adoption as sons by which we cry out, “Abba Father!” The Spirit Himself testifies with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, heirs also, heirs of God and fellow heirs with Christ…” (Romans 8:14-17)

As believers, we have the Holy Spirit abiding in us, and this gives us the capacity to sense what the Lord might have to say as we seek Him in our prayers, or as we go through our day. Such communication can give us ideas that we wouldn’t have thought of on our own, or it can affirm ideas that have occurred to us on a given subject. It can also let us know when we take a false step, perhaps moving in a direction we shouldn’t.

To further illustrate this consider what Jesus told His disciples as He anticipated His ascension:

If anyone loves Me, he will keep My word; and My Father will love him, and We will come to him and make our abode with him. He who does not love Me does not keep My words; and the word which you hear is not Mine, but the Father’s who sent Me. These things I have spoken to you while abiding with you. But the Helper, The Holy Spirit, whom the Father will send in My name, He will teach you all things, and bring to your remembrance all that I said to you. (John 14: 23-26)

With the Holy Spirit abiding in us, we have the capacity to hear from the Lord. He can remind us of what we’ve read in Scripture and help us apply His Word to the concerns that confront us. Or…He can inform our own thoughts as we contemplate what direction we should take in our lives. It’s also the case that when we misstep—and we all do—the abiding Spirit can signal us, warning us to reconsider what we’re doing. The Apostle Paul illustrated this when he emphasized proper conduct among the Ephesians:

Therefore, laying aside falsehood, SPEAK TRUTH EACH ONE of you WITH HIS NEIGHBOR, for we are members of one another. BE ANGRY, AND yet DO NOT SIN; do not let the sun go down on your anger, and do not give the devil an opportunity. He who steals must steal no longer; but rather he must labor, performing with his own hands what is good, so that he will have something to share with the one who has need. Let no unwholesome word proceed from your mouth, but only such a word as is good for edification according to the need of the moment, so that it will give grace to those who hear. Do not grieve the Holy Spirit of God (my emphasis), by whom you were sealed for the day of redemption. Let all bitterness and wrath and anger and clamor and slander be put away from you, along with all malice. Be kind to one another, tender-hearted, forgiving each other, just as God in Christ also has forgiven you. (Ephesians 4:25-32)

The word for “grieve” refers to irritating, offending…even vexing. The language in this text suggests that if we’re tuned in and paying attention, we can hear from the Lord when we’re in step with Him, and when we take a misstep as well. We can develop a rapport with the Lord that allows us to communicate with Him in a personal manner. But are we listening? Are we expecting Him to speak into our souls and help us find our way in this strange world? Or are we just going through the motions of being a Christian? I think that our walk with the Lord can be very personal. It’s a walk that needs to be monitored by the written Word and the counsel of other believers, but it is available to us. And I also believe that it’s in such a relationship that we can enjoy a measure of the “serenity” that we all need and desire. In saying this I’m thinking of what Jesus said to His disciples after He indicated that the Lord was going to send the Holy Spirit to them:

Peace I leave with you; My peace I give to you; not as the world gives do I give to you. Do not let your heart be troubled, nor let it be fearful. (John 14:27)

It’s fellowship with God through the indwelling Holy Spirit that provides real serenity even when that “lazy river” isn’t so lazy.