Thread

'For in him we live and move and have our being.' As some of your own poets have said, 'we are his offspring.' Acts 17:28 (NIV)

‘So that was the job I felt I had to do when I started,’ thought Sam: ‘to help Mr. Frodo to the last step and then die with him? Well, if that is the job then I must do it. But I would dearly like to see Bywater again, and Rosie Cotton and her brothers, and the Gaffer and Marigold and all. I can’t think somehow that Gandalf would have sent Mr. Frodo on this errand, if there hadn’t a’ been any hope of his ever coming back at all. Things all went wrong when he went down in Moria. I wish he hadn’t. He would have done something.’
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Return of the King

It was a beautiful fall day. The leaves were dancing in the wind outside, the sun insisted on a cheerful disposition. Rolling green hills stretched out before me as it were Tolkien's Shire, and I was in the paradise in the Pacific Northwest -- a coffee shop.

In my caffeinated heaven the epic soundtrack in my mind came to a scratching halt upon seeing the countenance of my young career professional friend. It had turned flat. He wasn't sullen but he was seriously detached - not quite zoombie-like by close. Gone was his playful curiosity about the world and what life might hold for him. The coffee shop was still alive with chatter. There was a conversation about a dating service and meeting the person of one's dreams. Someone else was laughing uncontrollably after a lame joke about the guy who dressed up in a cereal box for Halloween, painted himself red and went as a cereal-killer. Must have been a slow day at the office.

But not my friend. He spoke in almost whispered tones. "Until I graduated from college a few years ago I really thought that maybe I'd make a contribution, you know?", he said soberly. "I thought that my life would somehow be a part of creating a larger narrative. But now, with this crazy job, life just seems like one useless day after another. I'm a programmer. Big whup! Maybe I'm supposed to be doing something else."

What a relief! That last line showed a flicker of hope. Maybe the thread, or a wisp of it, was still alive. If he was open to "something else" maybe life hadn't killed off completely his previously expectant worldview after all!

On the other hand what about those who can't go and "do something else?" Is finding the sweet spot in life really about finding that perfect job, the one true soul mate out of millions of people, or connecting with the spirituality that's right for you? If it is, then may heaven help the vast majority of us, because more of us just don't have the options of that kind of job search. We don't have the heart-strength for that kind of experimentation. Even in these times of unprecedented travel in the global village we don't have the resources or omniscience to scout out the one person on the planet for whom we are made. We are human beings. We are good at being in the story by not at creating it out of nothing.

The good news of this story is that my friend has engaged in many of the truths we will explore in this blog. He has pulled out of his nosedive. The bad news is that it is an ongoing battle for most all of us in mind and heart to ward off the demons who tell us we don't matter. That's true for him, for me, and if you've got a pulse I'd bet you too.

Life, with it's one darn day after another march tends to do that to us doesn't it? When we're young, unless it's knocked out of us by being forced to grow up too soon, most of us have a sense that we're here for a purpose. We don't talk about it much because it often seems foolish, but we expect that one day we'll see what our role is for being put on this earth. This is true for many of us in spite of being educated in a way that continually reminds us that its "survival of the fittest" out there. So why try, the role you play in the world's larger narrative is programmed in our DNA. Or is it?
...to be continued,