Don Miller writes as he's a day away from hiking down into the Grand Canyon. He details something going on inside of him that's interesting. He's disconnecting from the life he once knew -- which revolved around "clothes and cars and a new flavor of toothpaste" -- and a new life he was discovering -- that centered around community, creation, beauty and humanity. He touched on the silly and hollow futility of the materialistic life, which he juxtaposed with his new surroundings and lifestyle: "I am getting used to not having any music or television and not pulling over and buying something as a way of feeling some kind of change." He talked about going through a "withdrawal," where on his first day there he almost bought a license plate keychain with his name on it, just to give him that familiar "having something new as a way of feeling different about myself."
Wow, can I relate to that. I think that somehow it can be healthy for a woman to buy a dress as a way of breaking the norm -- which is self-sacrifice and looking after the needs of others. I think along the same lines when I haven't bought a new DVD for about three or four months: "This is good for me."
Don makes another observation along these same lines, when he summarizes three blessings God gives to man:
to feed him like birds,
dress him like flowers,
and befriend him as a confidant.
"Too many take the first two and neglect the last," he observes. Think about what we're giving up! This is better than having Bono or Julia Roberts as a best friend! We're talking the Creator of the universe wanting to hang out with us! Don likens it to a dance. "Life is a dance toward God," he says. He starts to realize that he's not "missing something" by being at the Canyon. I hate that feeling of missing something. I'll get that at the annual GMA convention, where there are lots of people to meet and tons of bands to see and lots of get-togethers to partake of. I'm hustling about, doing this and that, and whenever I slow down or sit down and rest, I get this nagging feeling like I'm missing something and not "getting the best" out of the experience. It's a frustrating experience, because it makes me feel like I'm in a mice cage treadmill -- all for someone else's expectations, like I was living for them. It's quite liberating to accept my circumstances and conclude that "this is where God wants me," and to embrace it, live it, and drink it up.
Posted by Doug Van Pelt at November 15, 2006 08:54 AM