On Wednesday I sat in the lounge room of a friend I’ve known for almost 20 years.
She made me coffee, the same way she used to when we were teenagers and although we’ve not seen much of each other over the last handful of years, we were not strangers.
Reflecting with her on the last two decades of our lives was the greatest gift, but I’ll be real; hindsight can be my greatest burden. Regret soaks into my skin like humid, stifling air.
I wanted to grab my 17 year old self by the shoulders and shake her until her teeth rattled.
I wanted to shout at her to dream bigger, and think further!
Sometimes the ache to go back and do things differently is overwhelming.
And it’s easy to feel stuck with the choices that we made when we were younger, or be continually affected by the past.
It reminded me of a line in the midst of the Imposition of Ashes; In the midst of life we are in death.
Dust we are and to dust we shall return.
Life moves so quickly. It makes me dizzy and nauseous.
It seems just yesterday this best friend and I were listening to Jewel, writing poetry and going to parties. Now, we’re child wrangling, and walking through the beautiful messes of marriage.
The things we find the most difficult now, were once our hearts greatest desire. This kind of perspective, and wisdom comes from the relentlessness of time.
And while I know time marches on, and doesn’t still I can be still in it’s midst.
And when I’m still I begin to realise that the unquenching thirst for what could have been, is really a thirst to know God.
That the insatiable hunger for the life I once pictured, is actually pointing to an empty place only He can fill.
And while I am here, trapped in this thing called time, I can slow my soul enough to cease the hustle, forget what lies behind and keep my eyes fixed on what is ahead.
Over this Lent season I want to create in my life a rhythm of depth and slower pace.
That my focus would be less on doing, and more on seeing, really seeing.
That I would see my shortfalls, and failures and acknowledge my need for Jesus.
My heart would desire prayer, not platform. Spiritual disciplines would follow the natural ones.
I believe the Master Craftsman of our lives creates beauty from our grief, from our regrets, from our failure.
Then He gives us insight to walk the next steps of our journey well, if we stop still enough to listen.
Lord I pray for those who have lived with regret, and declare their time of mourning over. Crown them with beauty and with joy. Help us to slow our hurried souls and remove the clutter in our hearts and minds, to see clearly and to hear Your voice in the midst of our every day. Help us to embrace slow in a world that scorns it. Amen.
My friend Amanda and I are writing one piece each per week over the season of Lent, to position our hearts towards an embracing of slower living, and spiritual growth. You can read her first post here. xx