Rhythms

I’m not an athlete.

In fact, if somebody were to come up with a list that described what it looks like to be the absolute opposite of anything closely regarding physically fit or athletically inclined, I’m pretty sure I’d fit the bill to a ‘t’.  All that considered, though, I’ve recently taken up running.  It’s great.  It’s free.  You can do it wherever you want (except for maybe the ocean, or outer space, or on an airplane, mid-flight), and you can do it whenever you’d like (except for maybe during an interrogation, or at a funeral).  It’s always refreshing, and it almost always clears my head.  It’s also a tad addictive, and can lead to some fun adventures.  But that’s not why it appeals to me.  After thinking about it for a while (you run out of interesting things to think about pretty fast while you’re running by yourself), I’ve come to realize that it’s the rhythm that I like.

I also like rhythm in other areas of my life.  I like to have the same routine before going to bed.  I like to have a schedule that generally looks the same, from week to week.  I like to go to the same classes and sit next to the same people.  Usually, when I open my computer, I open the same applications in roughly the same order, and check the same websites–facebook, New York Times, Politico, email, blogs.  I drive up to Yuba-Gardens Middle school using the same route as I did the week previous, and my commute to Jessup, whenever I make it, only rarely varies depending on where I’m driving in from.  Though most of these routines are unintentional or simply convenient, I live a life of rhythm.  And I like that.

Through all of this talk about rhythm, though, I’m faced with a couple realities.  First, my rhythms and routines are always centered around myself, and second, there’s rarely room for God.  These two problems are pretty closely connected, and I’m convinced that to fix one is to correct the other.  So where to begin?

Some people fix this problem by injecting Jesus or love into their daily, weekly, monthly, or yearly rhythms.  Pray while you’re driving, or only listen to worship music in your car.  Read your Bible or pray for 30 minutes before you go to bed each night.  Go to church every Sunday, and say the right prayers or fast on all the sacred holidays.  I’m sure this works for those who commit to it and I’m certain that a love/Jesus-centered life includes all of these things, but I’ve found that when I try to do them without really changing anything else, nothing really changes (imagine that!).  It may just be my lack of self-discipline.  No doubt, if I could discipline myself better, I’d excel much more  at the spiritual life and at sports, than I do now.  But whatever it is, I’m not sure that injecting more Jesus into the same rhythms will bring about anything substantial…at least for me.

So, if simply adding to the rhythms and routines doesn’t work, what am I left with?  How can I change my selfish, loveless tendencies?

I’ve got to change the rhythms themselves.  Undoubtably, the time I’ve seen God work the clearest, and communicated with him the best, was when I was in India, absolutely void of any routine whatsoever.  Every day was different, new, and unplanned (that’s what happens when a guy like me is responsible for planning a trip), and many of the things we did were scary, nerve-wracking, and seemed dangerous or foolish (that’s also what happens when a guy like me is responsible for planning a trip).  We seldom knew how we were going to get where we needed to go, or what would be in store for us when we got there.  But God showed up through all of it, even when we didn’t plan for him to be there.  And he showed up in real-vivid ways that I could have only imagined before the trip.

So, since I’m not going back to India next week or this summer, what can I do to break through this comfortable, routine-dictated life I’ve created for myself, to live a life that is glorifying to God and reflective of the adventure and splendor and abundant live he has set in store for me–for all of us?  I can make it easy on myself.  I can make my routines and my rhythms–force them, even–to put me in the path of those God hangs out with, and those he commands me to help.  I can use up the extra gas and create a commute that takes me through the bad parts of town, offering a ride to whoever needs it.  I can give away more money than I fool myself into thinking I can afford to, just to appreciate the creative ways that God gives me what I need, as I do the same for others.  I can decide to intentionally break out of my rhythms every once and a while, and use that free time to love on somebody else.  Maybe one day I’ll go running during lunch (something I’ve never done), and spend my usual running time and energy listening to a friend talk about whatever they’d like to talk about.  Maybe one day I’ll write an essay early (which has never been a part of my routine.  Ever.), and use my planned all-nighter in prayer or hanging out with one of my Wyldlife boys or going on an adventure.

I don’t know.  There’s a limit to my creativity, just like there’s a limit to my athleticism and my self-discipline.  That’s what happens when you’re human.  But I do know one thing for sure.  We serve a God who meets us where we’re at, and promises to change those conditions for the better.  If I’m stuck in my self-centered, void of true, sacrificing love, materialistic rhythms and routines, that’s where God is going to meet me.  If I’m living an abundant life, full of surprise, love, intentional relationship-building, and care for my brother and sister and enemy, that’s where God is going to meet me.  Since I’d much rather God encounter me in the second place, I’m going to change my rhythms and routines in such a way that I can’t help but live as God wants me to.  I’m lazy, so I’m going to make it easy on myself.  I’m going to make my routines and rhythms expose to this things I’d rather not be exposed to, and put around those things and people that push me out of my comfort zone.  I’m going to set my car on auto-pilot and drive through the dark places with my fists clenched and my teeth gritted, until God molds me into the kind of person that loves those dark places, and the people in them–and then I’ll drive some more.  Beyond that, I’ll pray and show up.  Hopefully God will meet me there.

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