What’s on the list?
The first item on my list for this week is ‘find me’. I wasn’t being pragmatic, or funny. I was being real. It’s the third week of August, and notoriously a rough week for me, but this year was a milestone that indicated there should be some definition. Some specific recognition of who I am and what my purpose is in this life. I want to find me.
I have a good friend who gets her thrills out of mountain climbing, snow skiing, and living on the edge. Even in the political realm, she takes the hard-lined edge and focuses on the ethereal target in center sky. She lives above the cloud.
On some level, she visualizes her life as being above average, and she’s managed to live in that realm for most of the time since I’ve known her. Even when the world is crumbling at her feet, she manages to rise above and stand firm on high ground.
In a recent discussion with another woman whom I’ve found connected to my mountain climbing friend spiritually, I recognized a common thread. Both women see life from a perspective of self realization. They don’t see anything beyond what they view as ‘reality’, or a logical realm of existence where they comprehend their own lives. The phrase ‘That is way beyond my rational mind.’ was uttered into conversation, and I had to step away.
The limited concept of nothing existing outside my ‘rational mind’ is incomprehensible to me, because there is much of this world that exists outside the limited capacity of my own mind. The realization that both of these Bible believing women live within that limited conceptual understanding confuses me. Most of the time, it’s more important to open up and recognize that there’s life beyond the box I live in, because otherwise the whole world must exist within my reality.
There is life out there, beyond where I live.
This is that moment when I admit that life exists outside my box, and I’m not the axis upon which the world turns. Not only do I recognize that fact, but I’m smart enough to look through the windows in my box occasionally to see what actually exists out there, if not open the door and explore.
The world doesn’t spin around me. I’m not the axis. I’m also not the only force that moves it, but I darned sure can make a difference. By looking outside my ‘rational mind’, beyond what already exists to see the possibilities of what could be, of what God might create in my life, I can not only change the world, but I can be the change I want to see in the world.
Way back when I invited Jesus into my heart, I realized that HE was bigger than me, and no matter what I thought I could do, or see, HE could do and see more. I was only four years old back then, but the reality of how big my Savior was, even then, was well revealed to me. He can see the bigger picture. HE can take me where he wants me to go, even when I can’t see where we’re going.
Last night, I had a dream…
To understand the full realization of this dream, you have to know that I wasn’t driving. It was my vehicle, which somehow implied it was my life, but I wasn’t behind the wheel. We weren’t even on a road where I would drive. In fact, I’ve seen ‘that road’ and won’t even consider driving it. I’ve heard people talk about walking it, and I won’t do that either. And even more, NEVER, EVER, would I willingly get into a vehicle going up that road. This isn’t a fear thing, it’s a control thing. I like having control of ‘things’.
So, the dream…
I’m riding with my daughter along a familiar highway, and we’re talking about ‘me’. It’s that conversation you rarely have with anyone, but never with anyone you don’t trust, and there we were having that conversation. Suddenly, the road before us narrowed and became a lime green sheet of narrow, cut away on both sides to sharp inclines, and it isn’t straight. It’s rather excessively narrow – as in, just wide enough for my truck to travel – and curvy. There isn’t room for any error, and then the top of the mountain is visible ahead of us, over the nose of the truck, and she’s still driving at a pretty decent speed. We’re climbing up the hill, and just as the road disappears beneath the nose of the truck, I ask, “Do you know where this road goes?”
She says, “No.”
And I woke up.
Now the revelation…
I couldn’t see the road ahead. And to be honest, I woke up a bit panicked by the thought that I couldn’t see the road ahead, and she wasn’t hitting the brakes. But somewhere during this day, I realized that the dream was a lesson for me.
Of course, I knew the highway, and I recognized the skyline drive (even though I’ve never been on it), so I know the road continued on after cresting that particular mountain. There’s a point on the road where you can turn around and exit from the skyline drive. So it really isn’t nearly as dangerous as it might sound, or appear, even from my description, and that’s the lesson.
Even if it doesn’t exist inside the limits of my rational mind, God sees the big picture, and He’s got this.
I don’t have to be the one behind the wheel.
I can sit back and enjoy the view.
The lessons of life sometimes come through others. If you’re trying to sort out the lessons, see the opportunities, and feel the motivation, I’d be happy to help you with that.