I was at a bar recently waiting for a friend when I overheard a few people talking in the booth next to me.
“…I realized today that I’m stuck. My life is sort of on autopilot I guess, and I’m trying to figure out what to do next.”
The other people in the group nodded and gave a look of understanding and sympathy that said I-Know-What-You-Mean.
“Up until now I’d had my whole life planned out and everything has had a flow to it you, ya know? And the last few months I’ve just stagnated. It’s like…it’s like turning to stone. Everything has slowed down. It’s nice in some ways…comfortable even…but at the end of the day my heart just wants more I think.”
I took a sip of my beer and eased back into the vinyl booth that would be home for the next few hours. This is a familiar story to us, isn’t it? There’s something in these few sentences you and I immediately relate to. Why? Because at one time or another that’s been us. Or, if it hasn’t yet been us, we know or fear that someday we’ll be telling a similar tale. And so there’s a resonance when we hear stories like this that brings up all kinds of thoughts and feelings.
We didn’t end up where we thought we would on our journey.
Life feels at times unfulfilling; as if there’s more and we aren’t experiencing it.
We’re not sure which way to go next.
Even though we’re busy it doesn’t feel like we’re going anywhere meaningful.
These aren’t bad things to wrestle with, but what we do with them is vital to getting unstuck and moving into what’s next – moving from a slow decay into a more fulfilling way of life. Many of the feelings and questions that come up when we find ourselves stuck or at a crossroads come back to a much bigger issue we have to confront.
“What are we hoping for?”
How we get derailed and stop moving forward is different for each person and the season of life they are in. Sometimes movement, and in turn fullness of life, stops in the aftermath of a bad breakup or amid an excess of draining commitments. For others it’s a gradual decline toward apathy, or an unwillingness to put their hearts into the frontier where it can be wounded by change. However it happens, there is a retreat of sorts that occurs. We pull back from hoping to re-gather or find safety and stability, but as we do the movements of our lives begin to unravel.
For a time this leaves us satisfied, at least until we get a reminder of how it could be. This is different than comparing our lives to someone else’s. It’s a glimpse of how life is supposed to be that sparks a “YES!” in our souls. Or, like the man at the bar we begin to get a sense that things are off-kilter, even if we can’t quite find the words to say it.
However is happens there’s a revelation that draws us back to a decision.
“What do we do now?”
There’s a story in scripture that I’m reminded of when I hear this idea. After Jesus has been crucified his disciples are huddled together indoors out of fear of what might happen to them if the Jews who killed their rabbi found out where they were. They had stagnated and were at a crossroads, and I imagine this question of what’s next was running through all their heads. Do they give up and go back to their lives before all this started? Do they leave and tell others about the incredible things they heard and saw while Jesus was among them? They don’t do either of these, because for a short time they are stuck. Immobile from the loss and the fear they are experiencing.
Their sense of hope is gone. No hope that things can go back to the simple way of life before Jesus arrived on the scene, and no hope that they can go on without him. Without hope their survival instincts kick in and they bunker down and flip on autopilot.
And notice what happens, Jesus comes to bring them hope. He doesn’t leave them alone, and he doesn’t remain silent.
He offers comfort and direction.
There’s a forgetting that happens each time we lose hope. Hope fixed on something outside of us draws us forward into movement and change, but when we stagnate and the focus shifts to internal bouts of fear, doubt, pain, or any of the other negative and centered-on-self emotions that come our way we forget what guides us into tomorrow.
Hope is the fuel that keeps humans moving forward.
When we run out of hope in an area of our lives, that place begins to lose life.
Which begs the question...
What do you hope for?
Today. Right now. At work. In your relationships. For yourself and the future.
Do you find yourself relating well to the man at the bar?
If so, take heart. If you are tired you are in good company. If you are worn and tattered by disappointment remember that Jesus wants to provide comfort today – just as you are. If you are wondering what’s next and don’t have it all figured out, find solace that you are a human that fits right in and that God won’t leave you alone.
May you find hope anew today in places you least expect to find it, and may you take fresh steps into the unknown and find God already there.