I always try and pursue a full day of SPACE, quiet, and solitude during the week between Christmas and New Year’s. It has been a sacred time for me over the years. It has proven to be a rich time with moments of real clarity for the coming year. During this time, I often ask God for words or a phrase that He wants me to focus on for the coming year.

After a few hours of wrestling, slowing down, and being reminded that in order to hear…I first need to listen…really listen…eventually, the words started to come and the themes for my year began to emerge.

Remember
Stay Anchored
Keep Exploring

So much began to come to mind as I started to journal on those themes.

Then something unexpected happened. I was at one of my favorite spots about an hour from where I live. During a short hike, I began to wonder if there was anything that was blocking me from a deeper connection with God as I head into 2017. Soon, my hiking path came out behind a high school. It was a rival high where my youngest son had played many games and had many track meets throughout his high school years. It was a basketball gym where he’d had a couple of record-setting performances–a place where college coaches began to take notice, and the exciting world of recruitment began to happen. In the midst of this rush of memories, came this surge of emotion. Pain. Even anger. I could literally feel my body tighten up.

During Dylan’s junior year, his dream of division one basketball was becoming a reality. But then, life happened. Literally the day after his dream school began to recruit him, he fell with his first major injury. What followed were three, mostly unsuccessful, sports hernia surgeries, some crushing disappointment, and a four-year journey with physical pain that has not left him to this day.

As I stood behind this high school, all this emotion, disappointment and frustration emerged again, and all the questions came back. Why did God so clearly gift Dylan with the talents and life dream, yet seemingly block him from what he was so passionate about? Why did Dylan not get to enjoy his ultimate dream, even for one day, before struggle and disappointment came knocking? Why does he continue to struggle with pain? Why do I still feel so much disappointment and even anger over this?

You see, until this day of SPACE and solitude, I didn’t know how much I was still wrestling with the story Dylan has lived. The passions, the joy, the amazing memories, but also the anger and struggle. The memories of all those surgeries and doctors visits, and the deep disappointment with God came right to the surface. I can feel them in my chest as I write this. It seems clear that what was just under the surface is having impact on me, physically and otherwise, in a big way.

What followed that hike was some much needed honestly with God. We will see where it all leads in my own journey.

With a certain heaviness I continued my day of solitude and SPACE. When I get quiet and try my best to listen, I never know what is going to come to the surface…

I was on top of a mountain looking out over Quito, Ecuador. I was there to speak at a conference of youth ministry leaders from around the world, on what it takes to finish well. The crazy thing was, at the time I felt like my personal life and my leadership life were crashing down. My spiritual life was empty. I wasn’t sure I was going to stay on this faith journey at all. How could I deliver a message to these youth leaders on what it looks like to finish well? I just didn’t think I had what it takes to speak to the men who had gathered there. Everything in me wanted to bolt, and if I hadn’t been in South America, I may have.

Yet somehow in that moment clarity began to come. I decided to be bluntly honest and raw. As the hours passed, I had a very strong sense that I did have something to say, that my voice was needed, and I began to settle in.

Thoughts started coming. I need to help each of the men who had gathered in South America to remember:

• To remember the calling and mission that God had given each of them in the first place.
• To remember the key times in their own stories when God had broken through.
• To remember why they were doing the work and to reconnect with that initial calling.
• To remember the joy that was present in the early days of their spiritual journeys.

The night I spoke to those men was an incredible time of storytelling, and some moments of healing, restoration, and remembrance that I will never forget.

So, I am reminded again how powerful remembering can be. We must remember the places, the spaces, and the moments where God has intersected our own stories. Today it has kept me inspired, and I find myself wanting more of it. This thought comes to mind: “It is a good thing for the man that patiently waits, for the women who diligently seeks, It’s a good thing to quietly hope, quietly hope for help from God. When life is heavy and hard to take, go off by yourself. Enter the silence. Wait for hope to appear.” Lamentations 3:28-29, The Message.

So all these years after that incredible trip to equator—a trip that in many ways changed the trajectory of my life—I again have this ache to find some extended quiet and to remember…

Last week I was on a long awaited spiritual pilgrimage in Iceland. The word epic is over-used today, but in this case it fits. It was a journey that was beyond words, and on several occasions, I did experience those thin places. There is this place—one of the very few spaces in the world—where the continental drift has caused the North American and European continents to collide. It’s incredible! Rock cliffs go straight up to the sky, and in-between those rock faces is a thin place. Standing there was very profound as I reached out toward two continents.

I just stood still and took in that moment. I felt really small.. It was hard to deny a creator at that moment.

We encountered many other thin places on this journey in Iceland:

• The sheer power of towering waterfalls.
• The moment time stood still in a little church as we starred at a bible dated 1584, and we wondered what that missionary journey must have been like
• The journey through fire and ice
• And of course the continued pursuit of “the cliff”

And so many other places none of us wanted to leave. My son Dylan said it best;  ”these were days that God  gave our band of journeyers, just for us as a gift…  just a days to be overwhelmed by his abundance.”

As I soaked in these thin places I was reminded again  that God cannot be tamed, contained or boxed in and you just never know when these thin places open up. It’s hard to not try and hang on to those moments, even though you know it is not possible.. I find myself hoping for more… actually aching to experience those moments again…

How about you? Any thin places you have experienced lately? Keep your eyes and ears open…

Breakers off the coast of County Clare, Ireland

This weekend, I am speaking about a crazy group of radical christians, that has intrigued me for years: The Celtic Christians. I have been captivated by their music, their customs, their close identity with nature, and their fiery and resilient faith through incredible circumstances.

A few hundred years after the birth of Christ, the Roman Empire had fallen and a spiritual darkness was overtaking Europe. It was actually one of the darkest times in human history. In the midst of the darkness, this bands of radical Christians emerged in northern England and Ireland. These enduring, mission-driven, resilient, faith warriors were later referred to as the Celtic Christians. They associated their spiritual journey with nature, and they referred to God/the Holy Spirit as The Wild Goose. That name has always given me pause. It hints at the mysterious, untamed, nature of God that has remained undeniable throughout history. It serves as a reminder that the spirit of God cannot be  tracked, tamed, boxed in, or controlled.

Wild geese are…, WILD. They change course and move. They make noise. They fly in formation, yet they are free; free to change course, move and adjust. For me, wild geese are a reminder that when it comes to God, there is an element of discovery, adventure, intrique and unpredictability that seems to be absent from our spiritual journeys today. There is something about the idea of the wild goose that is compelling. It calls us out. It forces us to embrace the mystery of God that is so lost in our culture.

And it readies us for whatever He has in store…

I think the Celtic Christian had a sense for something we may have missed.

I wonder how I have tried to tame, control, or box in this wild goose. And as a result, I also wonder  if I have just settled, and lost some of that passionate pursuit that has, at times, made me dangerous in my faith.

I hope that pursuing the wild Goose is the real thing. I hope and believe that it can truly be something different than what we are used to, or have been taught.. And  I think it just may be  way more mysterious and adventorous , un-certain and full of risk, than many of us may think.

Anyway, there is a point in the movie when Bruce Wayne, is contemplating the creation of the Batman character. Alfred tells him something to the effect that the people of Gotham will never understand, that they are lost, and that they may not be worth saving. At this point Bruce Wayne replies, “…Sometimes people need dramatic things…. they need big encounters that will shake them out of apathy.”

I was immediately reminded of the many apathetic seasons I have walked through in my spiritual journey. Seasons when I just felt flat, uninspired, void of any passion, and not sure if I cared enough to keep chasing this mysterious and often what seems like a silent God. As I started to think through some of those times in my past, I found myself remembering what it was that  jarred me out of that spiritual apathy and the resulting doubt that had settled in.

Often, but not always, it was a crisis.

Sometimes, it was something more simple: music at the right time, or a scene in a movie (like what happened this week), a random conversation,or an epic moment in nature when God just showed up. But too often it has taken something significant like a crisis to really shake me up, and compel me back to seeking God with total abandon.

It happened on the heels of losing my dad in my twenties.

It happened in the midst of a long-term struggle that one of our kids has gone through.

It happened  after a tough battle with depression years ago.

I wish that this did not have to be true in my life. I wish that it didn’t have to be true in the lives of others. But it does often seem to take significant, dramatic events to awaken us from our apathy. That seemed to be true in Gotham, it is certainly true in this country, and true in my own life as well.

Think through some of those times when you have just been coasting, settling, uninspired. Maybe you’re in one of those times right now. In the past, what did it take to get you moving?  I know that being in an extended season of apathy sucks. I don’t want it for myself and I don’t want it for you. So even as I write this, I am more determined than ever to not let it go on so long. I need to get myself in a place where the emotions, the passion, my mind, and the pursuit of something greater,  gets stirred up and moving.

Over the last several years my son has been on a tough journey—a journey that has continued to assault him with one dream-crushing disappointment after another. After his junior year in high school he was being recruited by several division one basketball programs. Two of those programs were part of this year’s NCAA tournament. But after his junior year, a rash of injuries hit him and started a multi-year frustrating journey for all of us. What has followed the last four years has been three surgeries, multiple doctors visits literally all over the country, countless hours in physical therapy, and one set back after another. Now I could write a book about this journey. Just a month ago we met with a specialist in Florida, and had great hope of improvement. Then, while I was on a trip meeting guys from the RHYTHMinTWENTY  and Rogue groups I work with, I got news he was in the emergency room with pain.

Now perspective is critical. This is not life threatening, and there is so much to be thankful. He has become a young man who is much deeper, and is a steady anchor for many others who are in rough waters. As a result of what he has been through, he has a weightiness to his life that is just different. But it has been four years, and it does not change the disappointment and or explain the seemingly relentless quiet that comes in response to the prayers and the questions.

As a as a dad who has turned over every stone to help him get better and to chase his dream, my choice now seems to be to hang on, or to say,  ”Forget this. I am done with trying to understand where God is at in the midst of the challenge, struggle, and disappointment that life throws at us.”

Facing the cliff, and at times just hanging on, has caused some random thoughts over the years. —lessons from the edge, so to speak— on this specific issue:

• I have a son who is stronger, resilient, and steady, and more ready for whatever life throws at him,  as a result of his time of hanging on.
• Through the last several years, there has been a cumulative effect of other struggles that have made this one even more difficult. But through it, I personally have pursued God, sometimes in anger, but always far more , when I’m hanging on, then when I am on the downhill or coasting. And
• Finding a place to get brutally honest with God, and with trusted others, has been absolutely key. For me, as I have watched him, and others go through things like this, time with my journal, an occasional micro-brew with good friends,  and staying connected to things and places I am most passionate about has been a difference maker.
• Keeping my eyes, ears, and emotions tuned in, listening, watching and remaining open to experience  those badly needed “God moments” has been critical as well.

And, no doubt about it, those moments have happened. More on that later. For now I am hanging on…

]]> http://timbohlke.com/hanging-on-part-2/feed 0 http://timbohlke.com/hanging-on http://timbohlke.com/hanging-on#comments Sun, 28 Feb 2016 14:52:07 +0000 tim http://timbohlke.com/?p=2260 Sometimes this faith journey is just about hanging on.

Yesterday I was on a much needed bike ride, on a rare warm February day in Nebraska. As I crossed a railroad bridge, my mind flashed back to this place my friends and I would venture to during our teen years.

There was a long, old railroad bridge that crossed the Platte River. We would climb to the outside of the metal section of the bridge, and when trains would go by we would hang on. It was quite a rush. That entire old bridge would shake and we would hang on, literally with our fingertips, with all the strength we could muster. If the shaking was too great, the only danger was falling a few feet into the river, although our accounts of the adventure claimed that we were at risk of a much higher fall.

That is often what the journey of faith is like. Sometimes, it is just about  hanging on. I have been close to a few couples lately who have been down the heart breaking road of infertility. One of those couples, after years of trying, and after walking through so many disappointments and heartbreaks, finally saw that miracle arrive. I know the last few years have been tough for them. Lots of questions and understandable struggle. Many times they were just hanging on.

I remember another couple I heard about who had waited years for a child. After their daughter was finally born, complications set in and they lost her. The answered prayer became much more painful than the unanswered prayer ever was. What do you do with that?

It is hard to know what to say, or what to do in situations like that. There are just no words for it. With all that life can throw at us, sometimes we really are just hanging on. I have had a few of those moments—well, really longer than moments, more like seasons over the last few years where I was just hanging on in the faith journey. So many questions… and during those times God has seemed so silent and detached. And I wonder why? Why does it have to be that way? Why so often does it feel like he leaves us hanging?

I will write about some on those in the next few weeks. For now, I am going to head back out on the bike and find that bridge again. Yesterday was a great reminder that sometimes you just have to hang on.

I have loved being a parent. Even before I was married I remember being really excited about someday being a dad. I always knew that it was a role I was gifted for and passionate about. Though some of the transitions and changes have been hard, I have loved all of it. (Well… most of it.) I have poured myself into being a dad, and I have few regrets. But through the years, those significant moments of transitions like the 16th birthdays or sending my kids off to college, have pushed me into some deep reflection. I have sometimes personally struggled with releasing my kids into that next season of life. No matter what my personal desire in those moments has been, change still came. Change is always the constant.

With my daughter, there has always been something special, something extra to protect. She tends to love the things I love: travel, hiking, biking, the mountains, new adventure, impacting people.

Well, in a couple of days I walk her down the aisle.

It is odviously an awesome moment for her,  she is excited, and it’s an incredible moment for them to begin to tell a new story with their lives going forward.  But there is no doubt things are about to change. These last few weeks I have felt like I am in a fog, , not really ready to face or embrace the change that is coming. I feel like I am in this scene in the second Lord of the Rings movie, The Lord of the Rings: The Two Towers.

There is this great moment between the main character Aragorn and Théoden, King of Rohan. The enemy is attacking, fully intent on destroying the people of Middle-earth. The King is ignoring the reality in front of him, and has decided to gather his people and retreat to the mountains. When Théoden says that the risk of engaging the enemy is too great, Aragorn looks him in the eye and says, “Open war is upon you whether you would risk it or not.”

So in my reflective moments, I am facing the reality… change is upon me, whether I willingly face it or not.

Given that reality, what is my next step? Well for now, a little more time with my journal and another cup of coffee are in order….

I know a lot of the stories. I have actually preached on many of them. Moses spends forty years in the desert doing pretty much the same thing every day… forty years! Then one random day God seems to show up. Noah hears from God, then spends forty years building the ark before there is confirmation of the calling. Sarah waits for decades until she has the son she so longed for,David runs, hides and waits for his time to be king…  you have to wonder how quiet all those years of waiting were.

I wonder why it has to be that way. I wonder why God seems to stay so quiet, so mysterious, so silent. I wonder why we have to endure those lonely times, those long times in the wilderness wondering if He is real, asking if He still shows up, or if he still speaks to people. I recently had a talk with one of my kids who feels God has never really “shown up” in his own life. I have seen  God in his life  time and time again over the years, but that is my perspective. He wants to know if this spiritual journey is real, and if it is, why God seems so uninvolved, so silent, so seemingly disengaged in his life and in his perspective…in the lives of others around the world.

I have asked that question many times myself. Over the years, I have walked through deep disappointment at God’s silence after relentless prayers. I have watched the fate of so many around the world who are suffering and dying just because they are Christians… and I wonder why God doesn’t show up and make things right. I have a lot more questions than answers today, so I am not even going to try to wrap this up well. But I do know that throughout history this faith journey has been a struggle for many who chose to follow it. I do know that there have been times  when people just needed to move to the edge, and take a step on faith alone. Those often are the times when God showed up in incredible ways, and the times when there was a crack in the deafening silence. That has certainly been true in my own life. What I have seen in others is that those who keep moving, keep believing, keep taking steps of faith that seem to make no sense, those who keep pursuing God through all of it… they have a peace, a strength, a weightiness to them that is different. They act as almost an anchor to others when times get really tough.

I want to be like that. Sometimes it is the only thing that makes sense.

San Diego is  a place of incredible contrasts in my own journey. It represents perhaps the most difficult season of my life, and at the same time, it was the place of my most profound spiritual breakthrough. We have now brought fourteen RHYTHMinTWENTY and Rogue groups to this place. Here  we have wrestled with what it looks like for a leader to drop anchor and deeply connect with God, and with others and with things that bring us life. We have discovered how important it is to listen and to follow the unpredictable “holy wind” when it comes.

In this place I am reminded again of just how mysterious this God we follow really is. Sometimes this faith journey seems so unpredictable and filled with extreme contrasts, yet I long for the consistency and steadiness that faith brings. For me San Diego is a constant reminder of the best… and the absolute worst of times. Years ago, I was on this boardwalk, trying to make sense of some of the worst circumstances I likely will ever face. Yet it was in that place that God showed up in a radical and real way. Somehow through that time, I gained new resolve to stay the course.

Yes, this faith journey seems filled with contrast and extremes. Things that make sense… and things that absolutely make no sense. Times of deep disappointments… and times of incredible breakthrough. It is good to be back, and remember. In the remembering I am gaining some needed perspective and resolve to take the next steps.

Being here again reminds me to keep  coming back….and it stirs me to keep chasing the moments, no matter how illusive they may be.