48 That’s how old I am. 48. Maybe it’s mid-life. Maybe it’s a crisis of personal proportions. Maybe it’s something else. But I see life as I know it and it feels pretty flat. You know… Kansas flat. Maybe even eastern Colorado flat (which is like Kansas, only higher). It’s just that there doesn’t seem to be much going on. I get up, go to work, come home, cook, prep some college coursework I am teaching, watch some TV, go to bed. Next day… it’s the same.
Man! That’s not what I used to live. I remember living on the edge. You know, back in the day when I was young and full of ideals. When my dreams with God were bigger than my life could ever be. When God fulfilled my life. I was newly married. Or a new father. Or at a new ministry. It didn’t matter, I was sensing God at every turn. I could imagine no better life. Oh, and I had no money. So cool. So full of faith. I knew every day was a day when God would show up. When He would move in someone’s life. When the supernatural was expected because God is so much higher than than me. The supernatural was anything from the presence of God in the words of someone’s testimony or the healing of someone’s knee. Those around me expected stuff… and we saw stuff… and that stuff was awesome. The idealist’s life… the life full of faith… was the best life.
Then real life happened (or so they tell me). Reality. My high ideals were great for me but I couldn’t reconcile the lack of ideals in someone else’s life. I mean, really, shouldn’t men of high regard, godly men of high regard, excel at a Biblical standard filled with integrity? I thought so. I was wrong on some accounts and right on others. When I saw integrity and honor my world was pretty alright. When I didn’t see integrity and honor my world shook. I couldn’t reconcile the disparity.
That may have been the beginning of something I still wrestle with. Couple that with several tough ministry situations and, well, here I am.
Life is relatively good: great family, talented kids, beautiful wife, financial stability. But here I sit, typing away hoping to be able to express what I feel. Everything is good, but I miss the idealist.
Where is the guy who knew God would show up? Did he disappear? Did he fade away like the memories of great ministry? Is he covered up with responsibility? comfort? plain thinking? I grow weary of that. I grow weary of flat, average, stable. While life may be good now, I find myself looking for something great again. To be part of the incredible. Not the everyday. Not the good enough. I want a challenge… to be challenged… to rise to it… excel… fail… try again. At least then I would be moving forward.
At 48 my life is far from over. But this flat spot, this Kansas, on the road to the next great adventure is kicking my butt.
