Whether it’s a universal phenomenon or not, I’m not sure, but I’ve heard much discussion and many more off-hand comments about how wonderful it is to think about the next vacation, the next escape from routine, the next opportunity to discover something new, to participate in something other than the normal day-to-day. I’m no exception here. It may be a simple day trip, off in the morning, back home again in the evening. Or a weekend. Or that best of all, once-in-a-lifetime, pull out all the stops, big getaway. Once separated from our everyday world with its duties and requirements and to-do lists, there’s an often-dormant side of us that wakes, thrilled with all the suddenly available possibilities. I mean, getting to water’s edge, be it a lake or a river or a larger body, is, for me, terribly enticing. Just this past weekend, prompted, sadly, by the sudden passing of a fellow Vineyard pastor, we found ourselves in Maryland, super near to the mighty Chesapeake Bay. So close, in fact, that it seemed unthinkable to not get to the edge. So, for lunch on Sunday, we found a quaint waterfront café, with deck seating, on one of the many inlets. The skies overcast, temps unsummerly cool, the clouds dripping a bit, but no matter. The water was right there! After lunch, we drove around Stoney Point Park packed with families and large groups picnicking, children running around, grills smoking next to every table, dads zonked out in hammocks, one makeshift puppet theater awaiting the big show, one 54th birthday celebration with banner and huge stack of balloons. And all this merrymaking within a stone’s throw of the bay! Ahhh. Can’t you hear the water lapping at the shore, calling your name?
Sometimes I think I live my out loud Christian life like that. In episodes. On occasion. On holidays. Sporadically, even. Compared to the energy and planning and expectation levels of those getaways mentioned above, I’m left aware that less intentionality goes into the casual, average, day-to-day routine while at home. Or maybe it’s that the average, day-to-day routine is so well-established, there’s little room for the allure of novelty, the zing of spontaneity. But the prayer that is ringing in my head, asks that I live each day to the full, being true to the Father in every way. And this is the same prayer at the end of every daily devotional reading! I’m convinced that, for the ‘full’ to be reached, especially in the ‘every,’ there will need to be a greater degree of thought, of ‘paying attention to what I’m paying attention to.’ I feel a call, stronger even than the call to the water’s edge, to know what ‘more’ is within my reach that I may miss if I’m not leaning in to a habit of actively looking. How full is your full? How close to every do you get? PD
